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AMERICANS IN ROME 



HENRY Pl^LELAND. 



NEW YORK: 

CHARLES T. EVANS, 448 BROADWAY. 

1863. 



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33^- jL^/.y^t:J 







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Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 

CHAKLES T. EVANS, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 

District of New York. 



2 1 




PEEFAOE. 



While we in America, with our war and work, are 
fighting along stoutly in the advance guard of the 
world, let us not forget that there has been a past, by 
which we may still profit much, though it be only by 
measuring from it our onward course. Such a standard 
may be found in Eome, which is to the present day the 
most liying specimen of a rapidly yanishing, yet culti- 
vated age, in existence. In this great city and its terri- 
tories, old times still weep and smile as they did in 
fairy tales and pictures, until the present age of steel 
came to improve the world. Eome is our direct anti- 
thesis. She is all of the past, and full of lessons, even 
if they be only of warning for the future. 

The " antiquities " of Eome have been made to 
fill libraries, but of its popular and genial life, little 
has been recorded, though it be as interesting and in- 
structive to the true student of history as any work of 
art or political chronicle. This life is itself an antique, 
its every peculiarity is founded on some custom centu- 
ries old, and modern invention has as yet hardly modi- 



4 PREFACE. 

fied it in the least. But, observing that it must in a few 
years be utterly changed, I was led, during a residence 
in the City and Campagna, to note down carefully from 
my own observations — not from reading — many curious 
characteristics of popular life and humor, as well among 
natives as among strangers who adapted themselves to 
native customs ; and the result of this observation will 
be found in the following pages. Having constantly 
borne in mind the variety of elements in Koman society, 
their relations and unity, and especially their contrast 
to our own American life, I have, I trust, succeeded, at 
least partially, in producing a work of higher aim than 
of mere entertainment, or even of simply faithful detail. 
It was the more necessary to keep this leading object of 
my work continually before me, owing to the light and 
often apparently trifling nature of the materials with 
which I had to deal. Humor is the current sentiment 
of society everywhere, and jests and small quarrels, 
gossiping and bargaining must be heard, as well as 
fierce oaths, bitter groans, and wild oratory, by him 
who would tell its truth. I can claim for this work 
that it is almost to the minutest details true in spirit, 
there being scarcely an incident, event, or jest in it for 
which I am not indebted to my own observation, or 
that of friends ; and if the form in which it is cast has 
somewhat of imaginary narration, it was only done that 
it might be truer and nearer to the ease of every-day 
life, and give the latter more accuracy than can be pre- 



PREFACE. 



sented by a mere journal. Were tliis not really tlie 
most exact method of painting mankind, novelists 
would long since have given us tlieir plots in th.e form 
of diaries. 

This work has been called " Americans in Rome," 
since the little experiences and adventures of several 
fellow countrymen have been made to serve as the 
means of developing the characteristics and peculiarities 
of their Koman surroundings. I am not by any means 
the only one who has of late described Eoman popular 
life, and commend to the reader who is not already fa- 
miliar with them, "Mademoiselle Mori," the works of 
Edmund About, and a series of articles entitled Roba 
di Boma^ published in the Atlantic Monthly. Every 
writer has, however, his own stand-point, and his own 
favorite themes : such as are here given are those which 
struck me by their marked character, and they are por- 
trayed faithfully as I saw them, both as regards form 
and spirit. In a few years these noticeable traits must 
vanish, and Home, no more the prolongation of the 
Middle Ages will be the capital of a nation earnestly 
striving with the present, and rapidly assuming its 
characteristics. 



OOI^TET^rTS. 



—c^>^— 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Introduction. — Arrival in Rome — A Short Walk — Modern Art — A 

Room Hunt — Maccaronical — America in Rome, .... 9 

CHAPTER II. 

The Voice of Rome — Sermons in Stones — A Ball in the Costa 

Palace, 26 

CHAPTER III. 

On the Campagna — Bacchus in Rome — Caper's Menagerie, . . 47 

CHAPTER lY. 
Fair at Grotto Ferrata — The Tombola, ...... 72 

CHAPTER y. 

The Greco — Among the Wild Beasts — Roman Models — Giulia di 

Segni — Mr. Browne buys a Painting, 93 

CHAPTER YI. 

On the Pincio — Rome by Night — The Mysterious in Art — A Bath 

Hunt, 121 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER yiL 

PAGE 

** A Reel Titiano for Sal ''—So Long !— Roman Theatres— The Beards 

of Art — A Calico Painter — A Patron of Art, .... 145 

CHAPTER YHI. 

A Roman Yettura — Sunday in the Cainpagna — La Triglia — Painting a 
Donkey, . . . IH 

CHAPTER IX. 

Roman Firesides — ^Violets of the Yilla Borghese — The Carnival — The 

Yermiiion Miracle — The Popolo Exhibition, .... 206 

CHAPTER X. 
A Walk around Segni — Five Fairs and Festivals, . . . .232 

CHAPTER XL 
The Cheap side of Roman Artist Life — ^Fra Yolpe — Tolkoutchji, . 268 

CHAPTER XIL 

La Scampanacciata — Gunning around Segni — San Bruno, . . . 289 



AMERICANS IN ROME 



CHAPTEE I. 

EoME is the cradle of art — wliicli accounts for its sleeping 
there. 

Nature, however, is nowhere more wide awake than it is in 
and around this citj : therefore, Mr. James Gaper, animal- 
painter, determined to repo^ there for several months. 

The following sketches correctly describe his Koman life. 

It was on an autumn night that the travelling carriage in 
which sat James Caper arrived in Rome ; and as he drove 
through that fine street, the Corso, he saw coming toward him 
a two-horse open carriage, filled with Roman girls of the work- 
ing class (jninenti). Dressed in their picturesque costumes, 
bonnetless, their black hair tressed with flowers, thej stood up, 
waving torches, and singing in full voice one of those songs in 
which you can go but a few feet, metrically speaking, without 
meeting amove. And then another and another carriage, with 
flashing torches and sparkling-eyed girls. It was one of the 
1^. 



10 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

turnouts of the minenti ; they had been to Monte Testaccio, 
had drunk all the wine they could pay for ; and, with a pru- 
dence our friend Caper could not sufficiently admire, he noticed 
that the women were in separate carriages from the men. It 
was the Feast Day of St. Crispin, and all the cobblers, or 
artists in leather, as they call themselves, were keeping it up 
bravely. 

^' Eight days to make a pair of shoes ? " he once asked a 
shoemaker. " Si, Signore, there are three holidays in that 
time." Argument unanswerable. 

As the carriages rolled by, Caper determined to observe 
the festivals. 

The next day our artist entered his name in his banker's 
register, and had the horror of seeing it mangled to "Jams 
Scraper" in the list of arrivals published in the Giornale di 
Roma. For some time after his arrival in Rome, he was 
pained to receive cards, circulars, notices, letters, advertise- 
ments, &c., from divers tradesmen, all directed to the above 
name. In revenge, he here gives them a public airing. One 
firm announces : 

" Manafactury of Romain Seltings, Mosai'ques, Cameas, 
Medalls, Erasofines, &c." (Erasofines is the Roman-English 
for crucifixes.) And on a slip of paper, handsomely printed, 
is an announcement that they make " Romain Perles of all 
Couloueurs " — there's color for you ! 

A tailor, under the head of "/cz un parle Frangais^^'' 
prints : ' Merchant and tailor. Cloths (clothes ?) Reddy maid, 
Mercery Roman ; Scarfs, &c." 

Another: " Roman Artickles Manofactorer " — hopes to be 
" honnoured with our Customs (American ?), and flaters hims- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 11 

self we will find things to our likings." Everything but the 
English, you know ; that is not exactly to our hking. 
Another, from a lady, reads : 

A VENTRE! 

une GaUrie decomposee de 300 dAnciens Maitres^ et de Vecole romaine 
peintres sur bois, sur cuivre et sicr toitj (&c. 

Ventre for Vendre is bad enough ; but a " gallery of decom- 
posed old masters, and of Roman school painters on wood and 
on the roof," when it was intended to say, '^ A gallery com- 
posed of 300 of the old masters — -" But let us leave it un- 
translated ; it is already decomj)osee, 

Mr. Caper having indignantly rejected the services of all 
professors of the guiding art, or ^' commissionaires," slowly 
sauntered out of his hotel the morning after his arrival, and, 
map in hand, made his way to the tower on the Capitoline 
Hill. Threading several narrow, dirty streets, he at last went 
through one where in one spot there was such a heap of garb- 
age and broccoli stumps that he raised his eyes to see how 
high up it reached against the walls of a palace ; and there 
read, in black letters, 

literally translated, A Place for Dirt. On the opposite wall, 
which was the side of a church, he saw a number of black 
placards, on which were large white skulls and crossbones ; 
and while examining these, a bareheaded, brown-bearded, 
stout Franciscan monk passed him. Prom a passing glance. 
Caper saw he looked good-natured, and so, hailing him, asked 
why the skulls and bones were pasted there. 



12 AMERICAINTS IN ROME. 

" "Who knows ? " answered the monk. " I came this 
morning from the Campagna. This is the first time in all my 
life I have been in this magnificent city." 

" Can you tell me what that word means, up there ? " said 
Caper, pointing to immondezzaio, 

^^ SIgnore, I cannot read." 

*' Perhaps it is the name of the street — may-be of the city ? " 

"It must be so," answered the priest, "unless it's a sign 
of a lottery ofiice, or a caution against blasphemy up and down 
the pavement. Those are the only signs we have in the coun- 
try, except the government salt and cigar shops." . . . 
He took a snuffbox from a pocket in his sleeve, and, with a 
bow, offered a pinch to Mr. Caper. This accepted, they bid 
each other profoundly farewell. 

" There goes a brick ! " remarked the traveller. 

Arrived at the entrance door to the tower of the Capitoline 
Hill, James Caper first felt in one pocket for a silver piece, and 
in the other for a matchbox, and finding them both there, rang 
the bell, and then mounted to the top of the tower. Lighting 
a zigavTO scelto^ or papal cigar, he leaned on both elbows on the 
parapet, and gazed long and fixedly over the seven-hilled city. 

"And this," soliloquized he, ^^ is Rome. Many a day have 
I been kept in school without my dinner, because I was not 
able to parse thee idly by, Roma — Rome — noun of the first 
declension, feminine gender, that a quarter of a century ago 
caused me punishment, I have thee now literally under foot, 
and (knocking his cigar) throw ashes on thy head. 

" My mission in this great city is not that of a picture ped- 
dler or art student. I come to investigate the eating, drinking, 
sleeping arrangements of the Eternal City — ^its wine more than 



AMERICANS IN KO ME. 13 

its vinegar, its pretty girls more than its galleries, its cafes 
more than its churches. I see from here that I have a fine 
field to work in. Down there, clambering over the fallen ruins 
of the Palace of the Csesars, is a donkey. Could one have a 
finer opportunity to see in this a moral and twist a tail ? From 
those fallen stones. Memory— glorious old architect — rears a 
fabric wondrously beautiful ; peoples it with eidolons white and 
purple-robed, and gleaming jewel-gemmed ; or, iron armed, 
glistening with flashing light from polished steel — heroes and 
slaves, conquerors and conquered. My blood no longer flows 
to the slow, jerking measure of a nineteenth-century piece of 
mechanism, but freely, fully, and completely. Hurrah ! my 
blood is up ! Dark, liquid eyes • black, flowing locks ; strange, 
pleasing perfumes, are around me. There is a rush as of a 
strong south wind through a myriad of floating banners, and I 
am borne onward through triumphal arches, past pillared 
temples, under the walls of shining palaces, into the Co- 
liseum. . . . 

" Pray, and can you tell me — if that pile of d — d old rub-' 
bish — down there, you know — is the Forum — for I do not — 
see it in Murray — though I'm sure — I have looked very clearly 
— and Murray, you know — has everything down in* him — that 
a traveller" . . . 

''A commercial traveller?" . . . interrupted Mr. Ca- 
per, speaking slowly, and looking coolly into the eyes of the 
blackguard Bagman. ... ^' The ruins you see there, are 
those of the Forum. Good morning." 

" Lucrezia Borgia at the Tomb of Don Giovanni ! You 
see," said the artist, '* I have chosen a good name for my paint- 



14 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

ing, . . . and it's a great point gained. Forty or fifty 
years ago, some of those fluffy old painters would have had 
Yenus worshipping at the shrine of Bacchus." 

" Whereas, you think it would be more appropriate for her 
to worship Giove ? " . . . asked Caper. 

''No, sir I ... I run dead against classic art — it's a 
drug. I tried my hand at it when I first came to Rome. 
"Will you believe me, I never sold a picture. Why, that very 
painting" — pointing to the Borgia — '' is on a canvas on which 
I commenced The Subjugation of Adonis." 

'' H'm ! You find the class of Middle Age subjects most 
salable, then ? " 

'' I should think I did. Something with brilliant colors, 
stained glass windows, armor, and all that, sells well. The 
only trouble is, ultramarine costs dear, although Dovizzelli's is 
good, and goes a great v/ays. I sold a picture to an Ohio man 
last week, for two hundred dollars ; and it is a positive fact, 
there was twenty scudi (dollars) worth of blue in it. But the 
infernal Italians spoil trade here. Why, that fellow who paints 
Guido's Speranzas up there at San Pietro in Yinculo, is as 
smart as a Yankee. He has found out that Americans from 
Rhode Island take to the Speranza, because Hope is the motto 
of their State, and he turns out copies hand over fist. He has 
a stencil ]3late of the face, and three or four fellows to paint for 
liim ; one does the features of the face, another the hand, and 
another rushes in the background. Why, sir, those paintings 
can be sold for five scudi^ and money made on them at that. 
But then, what are they ? Wretched daubs, not worth house- 
room. Have you any thoughts of purchasing paintings ? " 

Caper smiled gently. . . . ''I had not, when T first 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 15 

came to Eome ; but liow long I may continue to think so, is 
doubtful. The temptations" (glancing at the Borgia) "are 
verj great." . . . 

"Rome," . . . interrupted the artist, . • • "is 
the cradle of art." 

Caper, on his first arrival in Rome, went to the Hotel 
Europe, in the Piazza di Spagna. There for two weeks he 
lived like a milordo. He formed many acquaintances among 
the resident colony of American artists, and was received by 
them with much kindness. Some of the mercenary ones of 
their number, having formed the opinion that he came there to 
buy paintings, ignorant of his profession, were excessively 
polite ; but their offers of services were declined. "When 
Caper finally moved to private lodgings in Babuino street, and 
opened a studio, hope, for a season, bade these salesmen all 
farewell. They groaned, and owned that they had tried, but 
could not sell. 

Among the acquaintances formed by Caper, was a French 
artist named Rocjean. Born in France, he had passed eight or 
ten years in the United States, learned to speak Enghsh very 
well, and was residing in Rome "to perfect himself as an 
artist." He had, when Caper first met him, been there two 
years. In all this time he had never entered the Vatican ; 
and having been told that Michael Angelo's Last Judgment 
was found to have a flaw in it, he had been waiting for repairs 
before passing his opinion thereon. On the other hand, he had 
studied the Roman plehs — the people — with all his might. He 
knew how they slept, ate, drank, loved, made their little econo- 
mies, clothed themselves, and, above all, how they black- 



16 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

guarded each other. "When Caper mentioned to him that he 
wished to leave his hotel, take a studio and private lodgings, 
then Rocjean expanded from an old owl into a spread eagle. 
Hurriedly taking Caper by the arm, he rushed from one end 
of Rome to the other, up one staircase, and down another ; 
until, at last, finding out that Eocjean invariably presented him 
to fat, fair, jolly -looking landladies [padrone) , with the remark, 
" Signora, the Signer is an Englishman, and very wealthy," 
he began to believe that something was wrong. But Rocjean 
assured him that it was not ; that, as in Paris it was Madame 
who attended to renting rooms, so it was the padrona in 
Rome ; and that the remark, '^ he is an Englishman, and very 
wealthy," were synonymous, and always went together. ^^ If 
I were to tell them you were an American, it would do just as 
well — in fact, better, but for one thing, and that is, you would 
be swindled twice as much. The expression, ^ and very 
wealthy,' attached to the name of an Englishman, is only a 
delicate piece of flattery ; for the majority of the present race 
of travelling English are by no means lavish in their expendi- 
tures, or very wealthy. In taking you to see all these pretty 
women, I have undoubtedly given you pleasure ; at the same 
time, I have gratified a little innocent curiosity of mine ; — but 
then the chance is such a good one I "We will now visit the 

Countess , for she has a very desirable apartment to 

let ; after which we will proceed seriously to take rooms with 
a home-ly view." 

The Countess was a very lovely woman, conse- 

quently Caper was fascinated with the apartment, and told her 
he would reflect over it. 

"Right," said Rocjean, after they had left; ''better reflect 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 17 

over it, than in it — as the enormous draught up chimney would 
in a short time compel you to." 

" How so ? " 
^' I have a German friend who has rooms there. He tells 
me that a cord of firewood lasts about long enough to warm 
one side of him ; when he turns to warm the other, it is gone. 
He has lived there three years reflecting over this. The 
Countess occasionally condoles with him over the draught of 
that chimney." 

^' H'm ! Let us go to the homely. Better a drawn sword, 
than a draught." 

They found a homely landlady, with neat rooms, in the Yia 
Babuino, and having bargained for them for twelve scudi a 
month, their labors were over. 

There was, when Caper first came to Eome, an eating 
house, nearly opposite the fountain Trevi, called the Gabioni. 
It was underground — in fact, a series of cellars, popularly con- 
jectured to have been part of the catacombs. In one of these 
cellars — resembling, with its arched roof, a tunnel, the ceiling so 
low that you could touch the apex of the round arch with your 
hand — every afternoon, in autumn and winter, between the 
hours of five and six, there assembled, by mutual consent, eight 
or ten artists. The table at which they sat would hold no 
more, and they did not want it to. Two waiters attended 
them — Giovanni for food, and Santi for wine and cigars. The 
long-stemmed Eoman lamps of burnished brass, the bowl that 
held the oil, and wicks resembling the united prows of four 
vessels, shedding their light on the white cloth and white walls, 
made the old place cheerful. The white and red wine in the 



18 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

thin glass flasks gleamed brightly, and the food was well 
cooked, and wholesome. Here, in early winter, came the 
sellers of '^ sweet olives," as they called them, and for two or 
three cents {haiocchi) you could buy a plateful. These ohves 
were green, and, having been soaked in lime water, the bitter 
taste was taken from them, and they had the flavor of almonds. 

But the maccaroni was the great dish in the Gabioni. A 
four-cent plate of it would take the sharp edge from a fierce 
appetite, assisted, as it .was, by a large one-cent roll of bread. 
There was the white pipe-stem and the dark ribbon [fettucia) 
species ; and it was cooked with sauce [al sugo)^ with cheese, 
Neapolitan, Roman, and Milan fashion, and — otherways. Wild 
boar steaks came in winter, and were cheap. Yeal never 
being sold in Rome until the calf is a two-year-old heifer, was 
no longer veal, but tender beef, and was eatable. Sardines 
fried in oil and batter were good. Game was plenty, and very 
reasonable in price, except venison, which was scarce. The 
average cost of a substantial dinner was from thirty to forty 
haiocchi ; ^' and," said Rocjean, " I can live like a prince — like the 
Prince B , who dines here occasionally — for half that sum." 

The first day Caper dined in the Gabioni, what with a dog- 
fight under the table, cats jumping upon the table, a distressed 
marchioness (fact) begging him for a small sum, a beautiful girl 
from the Trastevere, shining like a patent-leather boot, with 
gold earrings, and brooch, and necklace, and coral beads, wlio 
sat at another table with a French soldier — these, and those 
other little piquante things, that the traveller learns to smile at 
and endure, worried him. But the dinner was good ; his com- 
panions at table were companionable ; and as he finished an 
extra foglietta (pint) of wine — price eight cents — with Roc- 



AMERICANS IN KOME. 19 

jean, he concluded to give it another trial. He kept at giving 
it trials until the old Gabioni was closed, and from it arose the 
Four Nations, or Quattro Nazione, in Turkey Cock Alley 
(viccolo Gallinaccio), which, as any one knows, is near Two 
Murderers^ street ( Via Due Macelli), 

" Now that we have finished dinner,'^ spoke Eocjean, " we 
will smoke ; then to the Caffe, or Cafe Greco. 

It may be a good thing to have the conceit taken out of us 
— ^but not by the corkscrew of ignorance ; the operation is too 
painful. Caper, proud of his country, and believing her in the 
front rank of nations, was destined to learn, while in Rome and 
the Papal States, that America was geographically unknown. 

He consoled himself for this with the fact that geography 
is not taught in the ^' Elementary Schools" there ; — and for the 
people there are no others. 

The following translation of a notice advertising for a 
schoolmaster, copied from the walls of a palace where it was 
posted, shows the sum total taught in the common schools : 

The duties of the Master are to teach Reading, Writing, the First Four 
Rules of Arithmetic ; to observe the duties prescribed in the law *' Quod 
divina sapientia ;" and to be subject to the biennial committee, like other 
salaried officers of the department ; as an equivalent for which he shall 
enjoy (godrd) an annual salary of $60, payable in monthly shares. 

(Signed) II Gonfaloniere . 

But what can you expect, when one of the rulers of the 
land asserted to Caper that he knew that " popcorn grew in 
America on the banks of the Nile, after the water went down 
— for it never rains in America.'^ 



20 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

It was a handsome man, an advocate for Prince Doria, 
who, once travelHng in a vettura with Caper, asked him wliy 
he did not go to America bj land, since he knew that it was in 
the south of England ; and gentlj corrected a companion of 
his, who told Caper he had read, and thought it strange, that 
all Americans lived in holes in the ground, by saying to him, 
that if such houses were agreeable to the Signori Americani^ 
they had every right to inhabit them. 

The landlord of a hotel in a town about thirty miles from 
Eome, asked Caper if, when he returned to New York, he 
would not some morning call and see his cousin — in Peru ! 

This same landlord once drew his knife on a man, when 
accompanied by Caper, he went to observe a sainfs day in a 
neighboring town. The cause of the quarrel was this : the 
landlord, having been asked by a man who Caper was, told 
him he was an American. The man asserted that Americans 
always wore long feathers in their hair, and that he did not see 
any on Caper's head. The landlord, determined to stand by 
Caper, swore by all the saints that they were under his hat. 
The man disbelieved it. Out came the ^' hardware," with that 
jarring cr-r-r-rick the blade makes when the notched knife- 
back catches in the spring ; but Caper jumped between them, 
and they put off stabbing one another — until the next saint's 
day. 

It was with pleasure that Caper, passing down the Corso 
one morning, saw there was a Universal Panorama, including 
views of America, advertised to be exhibited in the Piazza 
Colonna. "Here is an opportunity," thought he, "for the 
Romans to acquire some knowledge of a land touching which 
they are very much at sea. The views, undoubtedly, will do 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 21 

for them what the tabooed geographies are not allowed to do — 
give them a little education to slow music." 

Accompanied by Eocjean, he went, one evening, to see it, 
and found it on wheels in a travelling van, drawn up at one 
side of the Colonna Square. 

'' Hawks inspected it the other evening," said Rocjean, 
" and he describes it as well worth seeing. The explainer of 
the Universal Panorama resembles the Wandering Jew ex- 
actly, with perhaps a difference about the change in his pock- 
ets ; and the paintings, comical enough in themselves, consider- 
ing that they are supposed to be serious likenesses of the places 
represented, are made still funnier by the explanations of the 
manager." 

Securing tickets from a stout, showy ticket-seller, adorned 
with a stunning silk dress, crushing bracelets, and an over- 
powering bonnet, they subduedly entered a room twenty feet 
long by six or eight wide, illuminated with the mellow glow 
of what appeared to be about thirty moons. The first things 
that caught their eye were several French soldiers, who were 
acting as inspection guard over several moons, having stacked 
their muskets in one corner. Their exclamations of dehght or 
sorrow, their criticisms of the art panoramic, in short, were full 
of humor and trenchant fun. But "the expknator" was be- 
fore them. "Where he came from, they could not see, for his 
footsteps were light as velvet, evidently having " gums" on his 
feet. His milk-white hair, parted in the middle of his fore- 
head, hung down his back for a couple of feet ; while his milk- 
white beard, hanging equally low in front, gave him the ap- 
pearance of a venerable billy-goat. He was an Albino, and 
his eyes kept blinking like a white owl's at midday. He 



22 AMERICAN'S IN HOME. 

had a voice slightly tremulous, and mild as a cat^s in a 
dairy. 

^^ Gen-till-men, do me the play-zure to gaze within this first 
hole. 'Tis the be-yu-ti-fool land of Sweet-sir-land. Yi-yew 
from the some-mut of the Eiggy Cool'm. Day break-in* in 
the dis-tant yeast. He has a blan-kit round him, sir ; for it is 
cold upon the moun-tin tops at break of day. [Madame, the 
stupen-doss irruption of Ve-soov-yus is two holes from the 
corner.] 

^' Gen-till-men, do me the play-zure to gaze upon the second 
hole. 'Tis Florenz the be-yu-ti-fool, be the bangs off the 
fiowin' Arno. 'Twas here that " 

^'No matter about all that," said Caper; ^'show off Amer- 
ica to us." He slipped a couple of pauls into his hand, and 
instantly the Venerable skipped four moons. 

*^ Gen-till-men, do me the play-zure to gaze upon this hole. 
'Tis the be-yu-ti-fool city of Nuova Jorck in Ay-mer-i-kay, 
with the flour-ish-ing cities of Brook-lyn, Nuova Jer-sais, and 
Long Is-lad. The impo-sing struc-ture of rotund form is the 
Gr-rand Coun-cill Hall con-tain-ing the coun-cill chamber of 
the Amer-i-can nations. . . . [You say it is the Bat- 
tai-ree ? It may be the Bat-tai-ree.] What is that road in 
Brooh'lin f Tliat is the ra'1-road to Nuova Or-lins di-rect. 
What is that wash-tuh ? 'Tis not a wash-tub — 'tis a stim-boat 
They make the stim out of coal, which is found on the ground. 
Is that the Ay-mer-i-cain eagill f 'Tis not ; 'tis a hoarse-fly, 
which has in-tro-doo-ced hisself behind the glass. Are. those 
savages in Nuova Jer-sais f (New Jersey). Those are trees." 

^'Pass on, illustrious gen-till-men, to the next hole. 'Tis 
the be-yu-ti-fool city of Filadelfia. The houses here are all 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 23 

built of woo-ood. The two riy-aires that cir-cum-vent the city- 
are the Lavar (Delaware ?) and the Hud-soon. I do not know 
what is "a pum-king cart/' but the car-riage which you see 
before you is a fi-ah engine, be-cause the city is all built of 
woo-ood. The tall stee-ple belongs to the kay-ker (Quaker) 
temple of San Cristo." 

Rocjean now gave the Venerable a paid^ requesting him to 
dwell at length upon these scenes, as he was a Frenchman in 
search of a little of geography. 

" Excellencies, I will do my en-dea-vors. The gran-diose 
ship as lies in the Lavar (Delaware) riv-aire is fool of em-i- 
gr-rants. The signora de-scen-din' the side of the ship is in a 
dreadful sit-u-a-tion tru-ly. [Perhaps the artist was in a boat, 
and de-scri-bed the scene as he saw it.] The elephant you see 
de-scen-din' the street is a nay-tive of this tropical re-gion, and 
the cock-a-toos infest the sur-roud-in' air. The Moors you see 
along the wharves are the spon-ta-ne-ous born of the soil. 
Those are kay-kers (Quakers ?) on mules with broad-brimmed 
hats onto their heads ; the sticks in their hands are to beat the 
Moors who live on their su-gar plan-tay-tions. . . . Music f 
did you ask, Madame ? "We have none in this establish-ment. 
None. 

" Excellencies, the next hole. 'Tis the be-yu-ti-fool city of 
Bal-ti-mory. You behold in the be-fore ground a gr-rand feast 
day of Amer-i-cain peasants ; they are be-hold-ing their noble 
Count re-pair-ring to the chase with a serf on a white hoarse- 
bag (horseback ?). The little joke of the cattle is a play-fool 
fan-cy of the jocose artiste as did the panorama. I am un-ac- 
count-able for veg-garies such as them. The riv-aire in the 
bag-ground is the Signora-pippi." 



24 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" The what ? " asked Caper, shaking with laughter. 

" A gen-till-man the other day told me that only the peas- 
ants in A-mer-i-kay say Missus, or Mis-triss, and that the riv- 
aire con-se-kwen-tilly was not Missus-pippi, but, as I have had 
the honor of saying, the Signora-pippi riv-aire. The next 
hole, Excellencies ! — 'Tis the be-yu-ti-fool city of Vaskmenton 
(Washington), abo on the Signora-pippi riv-aire. The white 
balls on the trees is cot-ton. Those are not white balls on the 
ground ; those are ships — ships as have woollen growin' onto 
their sides (sheep ?). 'Tis not a white bar- racks ; 'tis the 
Palazzo di Vaskmenton, a nobil gen-e-ral woo lives there, and 
was for-mer-ly king of the A-mer-i-cain nations. What does 
that Moor^ with the white lady in his arms ? — it is a negro 
peas-ant taking his mis-triss out to air ; 'tis the custom in those 
land. . . . That negress, or fe-mail Moor, with some 
childs, is also air-ring; and the white 'ooman tyin' up her 
stockings, is a sportive of the artiste. He is much for the 
hum-or-ous. 

*' Excellencies, the last hole A-mer-i-cain. 'Tis the stoo- 
pen-doss Signora-pippi riv-aire, in all its mag-nif-j&cent booty. 
What is that cocJc-a-too doing there ? — he is taking a fly. You 
do not see the fly ? I mean a flight. What is that bust to 
flin-ders ? That is a stim-boat was carryin' on too much stim ; 
and the stim, which is made of coal, goes off like gun-pow-dair 
if you put lights onto it. This is a fir-ful and awe-fool sight. 
The other stim-boat is not bustin' ; it is saihn'. What is tliat 
man behind the whil-house with the cards, while another signor 
kicks into him on his coat-tails, I do not know. It is steel the 
sportifs of the artiste." 

^^ Excel-len-cies, the last hole. 'Tis the be-yu-ti-fool bustin' 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 25 

— no, not iDustin', but ex-plo-sion, of Ye-soov-yus. You can 
see the sublime sight, un-terrupt-ted be me ex-play-nations. I 
thank you for your attention auri-cu-lar and pe-coo-niar-ry. 
Adioj mitil I have the play-zure of seein' you oncet more." 

" I tell you what, Rocjean," said Caper, as he came out 
from the panorama, ^' America has but a j)Oor sJioiv in the Papal 
dominions." 



CHAPTEE II. 

The voice of Rome is baritone, always excepting that of 
the Eoman locomotive— the donkey — ^which is deep bass, and 
comes tearing and braying along at times when it might well 
be spared. In the still night season, wandering among the 
moonlit ruins of the Coliseum, while you pause and gaze upon 
the rising tiers of crumbling stone above you, memory retraces 
all you have read of the old Roman days : the forms of the 
world-conquerors once more people the deserted ruin ; the clash 
of ringing steel ; hot, fiery sunlight ; thin, trembling veil of 
dust pierced by the glaring eyes of dying gladiators ; red- 
spouting blood; screams of the mangled martyrs torn by 
Numidian lions ; moans of the dying ; fierce shouts of exulta- 
tion from the living ; smiles from gold-banded girls in flowing 
robes, with floating hair, flower-crowned, and perfumed ; the 
hum of thrice thirty thousand voices hushed to a whisper as 
the combat hangs on an uplifted sword ; the — 

Aw - wAw - W AUN - IK ! W AW - NIK I WAUN - KI- 
W-A-W-N ! comes like blatant fish-horn over the silent air, and 
your dream of the Coliseum ends ignominiously with this nine- 
teenth-century song of a jackass. 

At night you will hear the shrill cry of the screech owl 
sounding down the silent streets in the most thickly-populated 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 27 

parts of the city. Or you will perhaps be aroused from sleep, 
as Caper often was, by the long-drawn-out cadences of some 
countryman singing a rondinella as he staggers along the street, 
fresh from a winehouse. Nothing can be more melancholy 
than the concluding part of each verse in these rondinellas, the 
voice being allowed to drop from one note to another, as a man 
falling from the roof of a very high house may catch at some 
projection, hold on for a time, grow weak, lose his hold, fall, 
catch again, hold on for a minute, and at last fall flat on the 
pavement, used up, and down as low as he can reach. 

But the street cries of this city are countless; from the 
man who brings round the daily broccoli, to the one who has 
a wild boar for sale, not one but is determined that you shall 
hear all about it. Far down a narrow street you listen to a 
long-drawn, melancholy howl — ^the voice as of one hired to cry 
in the most mournful tones for whole generations of old pagan 
Romans who died unconverted — poor devils, who worshipped 
wine and women, and knew nothing better in this world. And 
who is their mourner? A great, brawny, tawny, steeple- 
crowned hat, blue-breeched, two-fisted fish-huckster ; and he is 
trying to sell, by yelling as if his heart would break, a basket 
of fish not so long as your finger. If he cries so over ancho- 
vies, what would he do if he had a whale for sale ? 

Another priino hasso pro/undo trolls off a wheelbarrow and 
a fearful cry at the same time ; not in unison with his merchan- 
dise, for he has birds — quail, woodcock, and snipe — ^for sale, 
besides a string of dead nightingales, which he says he will 
" sell cheap for a nice stew.'^ Think of stewed nightingales ! 
One would as soon think of eating a boiled Cremona viohn. 

But out of the way ! Here comes, blocking up the narrow 



28 AMEEICAJS^SINROMK. 

street, a contadino — a countryman from the Campagna. His 
square wooden cart is drawn by a donkey about the size of, 
and resembHng, save ears, a singed Newfoundland dog. His 
voice, strong for a vegetarian — for he sells onions and broccoli, 
celery and tomatoes, finocchio and mushrooms — is like tearing 
a firm rag. How long can it last, subjected to such use ? 

It is in the game and meat market, near the Pantheon, that 
you can more fully become acquainted with the street cries of 
Rome ; but the Piazza Navona excels even this. Passing 
along there one morning, Caper heard such an extraordinary 
piece of vocalization, sounding like a Sioux warwhoop with its 
back broken, that he stopped to see what it was all about. 
There stood a butcher, who had exposed for sale seven small 
stuck pigs, all one litter ; and if they had been his own chi^ 
dren, and died heretics, he could not have howled over them in 
a more heartrending manner. 

About sunrise, and even before it — for the Romans are 
early risers — ^you will hear in spring time a sharp ringing voice 
under your window, ^^Acqua chetosa I Acqua chetosa!^^ — an 
abridgment of acqua Accetosa^ or water from the fountain of 
Accetosa, considered a good aperient, and which is drunk 
before breakfast. Also a voice crying out, ^^ Acqua-vi-te .^" or 
spirits, drunk by the workmen and others at an expense of a 
laioccho or two the tablespoonful, for that is all the small 
glasses hold. In the early morning, too, you hear the chatter- 
ing jackdaws on the roofs ; and then, more distinctly than later 
in the day, the clocks striking their odd way. The Roman 
clocks ring from one to six strokes four times during the 
twenty-four hours, and not from one to twelve strokes, as with 
us. Sunset is twenty-four o'clock, and is noted by six strokes ; 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 29 

an liour after sunset is one o'clock, and is noted by one stroke; 
and so on antil six hours after, when it begins striking one 
again. As the quarter hours are also rung by the clocks, if 
you happen to be near one, you will have a fine chance to get 
in a muddle trying to separate quarters from hours, and Eoman 
time from your own. 

Another noise comes from the game of m6ra. Caper was 
looking out of his window one morning, pipe in mouth, when 
he saw two men suddenly face each other, one of them bring- 
ing his arm down very quickly, when the other yelled, as if 
kicked, ''''Due I " (two) ; and the first shouted at the top of his 
lungs, " Tre ! " (three). Then they both went at it, pumping 
their hands up and down, and spreading their fingers with a 
quickness which was astonishing, while all the time they kept 
screaming, ^' One ! " ''Four!" ''Three!" "Two!" "Five!" 
&c., &G. " Ha ! " said Caper, " this is something like ; 'tis an 
arithmetical, mathematical, etcetrical school in the open air. 
The dirtiest one is very quick ; he will learn to count five in 
no time. But I don't see the necessity of saying " three," 
when the other brings down four fingers; or saying ^^ fivQ^''^ 
when he shows two. But I suppose it is all right ; he hasn't 
learned to give the right names yet." He learned later that 
they were gambling. 

While these men were shouting, there came along an ugly 
old woman with a tambourine, and a one-legged man with a 
guitar, and seeing prey in the shape of Caper at his window, 
they pounced on him, as it were, and poured forth the most 
ear-rending discord ; the old lady singing, the old gentleman 
backing up against a wall, and scratching at an accompaniment 
on a jangling old guitar. The old lady had a bandana hand- 



30 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

kerchief tied over her head, and while she watched Caper, 
she cast glances up and down the street, to see if some rich 
stranger, or milordo, was not coming to throw her a piece of 
silver. 

" What are you howling about ? " shouted Caper down to her. 

^* A new Neapolitan canzonetta, signore; all about a young 

man who grieves for his sweetheart, because he thinks she is 

not true to him, and what he says to her in a serenade." And 

here she screechingly sung : 

But do not rage, I beg, my dear ; 

I want you for my wife ; 
And morning, noon, and night likewise, 

ni love you like my life. 

CHORUS. 

I only want to get a word, 

My charming girl, from thee : 
You know, Ninella, I can't breathe, 

Unless your heart's for me ! 

** Well," said Caper, "if this is Italian music, I don't see it." 
The one-legged old gentleman clawed away at the strings 
of the guitar. 

*^ I say, llustrissimo,^^ shouted Caper down to him, " what 
kind of strings are those on your instrument ? " 

" EccelUnza, catgut," he shouted, in answer. 

** Benissimo ! I prefer cats in the original packages.* There's 
a paolo — travel ! " 

Caper had the misfortune to make the acquaintance of a- 
professor of the mandolin, a wire-strung instrument, resembling 
a long-necked squash cut in two, to be played on with a quill, 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 31 

and which, with a guitar and vioHn, makes a concert that 
thrills you to the bones, and cuts the nerves awaj. 

But the crowning glorj of all that is ear-rending and peace- 
destroying, is carried around by the pifferari about Christmas 
time. It is a hogskin, filled with wind, having pipes at 
one end, and a jackass at the other, and is known in some 
lands as the bagpipe. The small shrines to the Virgin, particu- 
larly those in the streets where the wealthy Enghsh reside, are 
played upon assiduously by the pifferari^ who are supposed by 
romantic travellers to come from the far-away Abbruzzi Moun- 
tains, and make a pilgrimage to the Eternal City to fulfil a vow 
to certain saints ; whereas, it is sundry cents they are really 
after. They are for the most part artists' models, who at this 
season of the year get themselves up a la pifferari^ or piper, to 
prey on the romantic susceptibilities and pockets of the stran- 
gers in Rome ; and, with a pair of long-haired goatskin 
breeches, a sheepskin coat, brown rags, and sandals, or ciocie^ 
with a shocking bad conical black or brown hat, in which are 
stuck peacocks' or cocks' feathers, they are ready equipped to 
attack the shrines and the strangers. 

Unfortunately for Caper, there was a shrine to the Virgin 
in the second story front of the house next to where he lived — 
that is, unfortunately for his musical ear ; for the lamp that 
burned in front of the shrine every dark night was a shining 
and pious light to guide him home, and thus, ordinarily, a very 
fortunate arrangement. In the third-story front room of the 
house of the shrine dwelt a Scotch artist named MacGuilp, 
who was a grand amateur of these pipes, and who declared 
that no sound in the world was so sweet to his ear as the bag- 
pipes. They recalled the heather, haggis, and the Lothians, 
and the mountain dew, ve ken, and all those sorts of things. 



32 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

One morning, at breakfast in the Cafe Greco, he discoursed 
at length about the pleasure the pifferari gave him ; while 
Caper, taking an opposite view, said they had, during the last 
few days, driven him nearly crazy, and he wished the squeal- 
ing hogskins well out of town. 

MacGuilp told him he had a poor ear for music ; that there 
was a charm about the bagpipes unequalled even by the unique 
voices of the Sistine Chapel ; and there was nothing he would 
like better than to have all the pipers of Rome under his win- 
dows. 

Caper remembered this last rash speech of Master Mac- 
Guilp, and determined at an early hour to test its truth. It 
happened, the very next morning at breakfast, that MacGuilp, 
in a triumphant manner, told him that he had received a 

promise of a visit from the Duchess of , with several 

other titled English ; and said he had not a doubt of selling 
several paintings to them. MacGuilp's style was of the blood- 
and-thunder school : red dawns, murdered kings, blood-stained 
heather, and Scotch plaids — the very kind that should be 
shown to the sweet strainings of hogskin bagpipes. 

In conversation, Caper found out the hour at which the 
duchess intended to make her visit. He made his preparations 
accordingly. Accompanied by Rocjean, he visited Gigi, who 
kept a costume and life school of models, found out where the 
pipers drank most wine, and going there, and up the Yia Fra- 
tina, and down the Spanish Steps, managed to find them, and 
arranged it so that at the time the duchess was viewing Mac- 
Guilp's paintings, he should have the full benefit of a serenade 
from all the pifferari in Rome. 

The next morning Caper, pipe in mouth, at his window, 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 33 

saw the carriage of the duchess drive up, and from it the noble 
Eno-hsh dismount and ascend to the artist's studio. The car- 
riage had hardly driven awaj, when up came two of the pipers, 
and happening to cast their eyes up, they saw Caper, who 
hailed them, and told them not to begin playing until the 
others arrived. In a few moments six of the hogskin squeez- 
ers stood ready to begin their infernal squawking. 

" Go ahead ! " shouted Caper, throwing a handful of hai- 
occhz among them ; and as soon as these were gathered, the 
pipers gave one awful, heart-chilling blast, and the concert was 
fairly commenced. Squealing, shrieking, grunting, yelling, 
and humming, the sounds rose higher and higher. Open flew 
the windows in every direction. 

*' C'est foudroyante I " said the pretty French modiste, * 

" "What the devil's broke loose ? " shouted an American. 

^^Mein Gott im himmel! was ist das? '^ roared the German 
baron. 

^^Casaccio! cosa facesteV^ shrieked the lovely Countess 
Grimanny. 

" Jti nomine Domini! " groaned a fat friar. 

" Caramha ! vayase al infierno I " screamed Don Santiago 
Gomez. 

^^Bassama teremtefel^^ swore the Hungarian gentleman. 

Louder squealed the bagpipes ; their buzz filled the air, 
their shrieks went ringing up to MacGuilp like the cries of 
Dante's condemned. The duchess found the sound barbarous. 
MacGuilp opened his window, upon which the pipers strained 
their lungs for the Signore Inglese, grand amateur of the bag- 
pipes. He begged them to go away. ^' No, no, signore ; we 
know you love our music ; we won't go away." 
2^ 



34 AMERICAKSINROME. 

The duchess could stand it no longer. Her servant called 
the carriage ; the English got in, and drove off. 

Still rung out the sounds of the six bagpipes. Caper threw 
them more haiocchi. 

Suddenly MacGuilp burst out of the door of his house, 
maulstick in hand, rushing on the pifferan to put them to 
flight. 

^' Iddto giusto I " shouted two of the pipers ; " it is, it is 
the Cacciatore I the hunter — the Great Hunter." 

" He is a painter ! " shouted another. 

" No, he isn't ; he's a hunter. Gran Cacciatore I Doesn't 
he spend all his time after quails and snipe and woodcock ? 
Haven't I been out with him day after day at Ostia? Long 
live the great hunter ! " 

MacGulip was touched in a tender spot. The homage paid 
him as a great hunter more than did away with his anger at 
the bagpipe serenade ; and the last Caper saw of him, he was 
leading six pifferari into a wine shop, where they would not 
come out until seven of them were unable to tell the music of 
bagpipes from the music of the spheres. 

So ends the music, noises, and voices, of the seven-hilled city. 

One bright Sunday morning in January, Rocjean called on 
Caper, to ask him to improve the day by taking a walk. 

" I thought of going up to the English chapel outside the 
Popolo, to see a pretty New-Yorkeress," said the latter; "but 
the affair is not very pressing, and I believe a turn round the 
Villa Borghese will do me as much good as only looking at a 
pretty girl, and half hearing a poor sermon." 

"As for a sermon, we need not miss that," answered Roc? 



AMERICANS IN KG ME. 85 

jean, *' for we will stop in at Chapin the sculptor's studio, and 
if we escape one, and he there, I am mistaken. They call his 
studio a shop, and they call his shop the Orphan Asylum, be- 
cause he manufactured an Orphan Girl some years ago, and, as 
it sold well, he has kept on making orphans ever since." 

" The murderer ! '' 

" Yes ; but not half so atrocious as the reality. You must 
know, that when he first came over here, he had an order to 
make a small Virgin Mary for a Cathohc church in Boston ; 
but the order being countermanded after he had commenced 
modelhng in clay, he was determined not to lose his time ; and 
so, having somewhere read of, in a yellow-covered novel, or 
seen in some fashion-plate magazine, a doleful-looking female 
called The Orphan, he instantly determined, cruel executioner 
that he is, to also make an orphan. And he did. There is a 
dash of bogus sentiment in it that passes for coin current with 
many of our travelling Americans ; and the thing has ^ sold.' 
He told me, not long since, he had orders for twelve copies of 
different-sized Orphans ; and you will see them all through his 
asylum. Do you remember those lines in Richard the Third : 

" * Why do you look on us, and shake your head, 
And call us orphans— wretched ? ' " 

They found Chapin in his shop, ali^s studio, busily looking 
over a number of plaster casts of legs and arms. He arose 
quickly as they entered, and threw a cloth over the casts. 

'' Hah ! gudmornin', Mister Caper. Glad to see you in my 

studiyo. Hallo, Rocjan ! you there ? "Why haven't you ben 

' up to see my wife and daughters ? She feels hurt, I tell you, 

'cause you don't corne near us. Do you know that Burkings 



36 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

of Bosting was round here to my studiyo yesterday ? — sold him 
an Orphan. By the way, Mister Caper, air you any relation 
to Caper, of the great East Ingy house of Caper ? " 

" He is an uncle of mine, and is now in Florence ; he will 
be in Rome next week." 

A tender glow of interest beamed in Chapin's eyes. In 
imagination he saw another Orphan sold to the rich Caper, 
who might "influence" trade. His tone of voice after this 
was subdued. As Caper happened to brush against some plas- 
ter, coming in the studio, Chapin hastened to brush it from his 
coat, and he did it as if it were the down on the wing of a 
beautiful golden butterfly. 

"I was goin' to church this mornin* 'long with Missus 
Chapin ; but I guess I'll stay away for once in me life. I 
want to show you The Orphan." 

" I beg that you will not let me interfere with any engage- 
ment you may have," said Caper ; " I can call as well at any 
other time." 

" Oh no ; I won't lissen to that. I don't want to git to 
meeting before sermon, so come right stret in here now. 
There ! there's The Orphan. You see, I've made her accordin' 
to the profoundest rules of art. You may take a string, or a 
yard measure, and go all over her — ^you won't find her out of 
the way a fraction. The figure is six times the length of the 
foot ; this was the way Phidias worked, and I agree with him. 
Them were splendid old fellows, them Greeks. There was art 
for you — high art ! " 

"That in the Acropolis was of the highest order," said 
Rocjean. 

" Yes/' answered Chapin, who did not know where it was; 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 37 

"far above all other. There was some sentiment in them 
days, but it was all of the religious stripe ; they didn't come 
down to domestic life and feehn' ; they hadn't made the strides 
we have toward lay in' open art to the million — toward de- 
veloping hum feelings. They worked for a precious few ; but 
we do it up for the many. Now, there's the A-poUer Belvi- 
diary — ^beautiful thing ; but the idea of brushin' his hair that 
way is ridicoolus. Did you ever see anybody with their hair 
fixed that way ? Never ! They had a way among the Greeks 
of fixing their drapery right well j but I've invented a plan — 
for which I've applied to Washington for a patent — that I 
think will beat anything Phidias ever did." 

" You can't tell how charmed I am to hear you,'^ spoke 
Eocjean. 

" "Well, it is a great invention," continued Chapin ; " and 
as I know neither of you ain't in the * trade ' (smihng), I 
don't care but what I'll show it to you, if you'll promise, honor 
bright, you won't tell anybody. You see, I take a piece of 
muslin, and hang it onto a statue the way I want the folds to 
fall ; then I take a syringe filled with starch and glue, and go 
all over it, so that when it dries it'll be as hard as a rock. 
Then I go all over it with a certain oily preparation, and lastly 
I run liquid plaster-paris in it ; and when it hardens, I have an 
exact mould of the drapery. There ! But I hain't explained 
The Orphan. You see, she's sittin' on a very light chair — that 
shows the very little support she has in this world. The hand 
to the head shows meditation; and the Bible on her knee 
• shows devotion ; you see, it's open to the book, chapter, and 
verse which refers to the young ravens." 

"Excuse me," said Caper; "but may I ask why she has 
such a very low-necked dress on ? " 



38 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

*' Well, my model has got such a fine neck and shoulders," 
replied Chapin, ^' that I re-eely couldn^t help showing 'em off 
on the Orphan ; besides, they're more in demand — the low 
neck and short sleeves — than the high-bodied style, w^iich has 
no buyers. But there is a work I'm engaged on now, that 
would just soot your uncle. Mr. Caper, come this way.'* 

Caper saw what he supposed vfas a safe to keep meat cool 
in, and approached. Chapin threw back the doors of it, like a 
showman about to disclose the ^' What Is It ? " and Caper saw 
a dropsical-looking Cupid, with a very short shirt on, and a 
pair of winged shoes on his feet. The figure was starting for- 
ward as if to catch his equilibrium, which he had that moment 
lost, and was only prevented from tumbling forward by a bag 
held behind him in his left hand, while his right arm and hand, 
at full length, pointed a sharp arrow in front of him. 

^' Can you tell me what that figger represents ? " asked 
Chapin. As he received no reply, he continued : ^^ That is 
Enterprise ; the two little ruts at his feet represent a railroad ; 
the arrow, show^in' he's sharp, points ahead — Go ahead ! is his 
motto ; the bag in his hand represents money, which the keen, 
sharp, shrewd business man knows is the reward of enterprise. 
The wreath round his head is laurel mixed up with lightnin', 
showin' he's up to the tellygraph ; the pen behind his ear 
shows he can figger ; and his short shirt shows economy— -that 
admirable virtoo. The wings on his shoes are taken from 
Mercury, as I suppose you know ; and " 

" I say, now, Chapin, don't you think he's got a little too 
much legs, and rather extra stomach on him, to make fast ' 
time ? " asked Rocjean. 

"Measure him! measure him ! " said Chapin, indignantly; 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 39 

^^ there's a string. Figure six times the length of his foot, 
everything else in proportion. No, sir ; I have not studied 
the classic for nothin'. If there is any one thing I am strong 
on, it's anatomy. Only look at his hair ! Why, sir, I spent 
three weeks once, dissectin' ; and for more'n six months I 
didn't do anything, during my idle time, but dror figgers. 
Art is a kind of thing that's born in a man. This saying the 
ancients were better sculp ters than we air, is no such thing ; 
what did they know about steam engines or telegraphs? 
Fiddle I They did some fust-rate things, but they had no idee 
of fixin' hair as it should be fixed. No, sir ; we moderns have 
great add-vantagiz, and we improve 'em. Eome is the era — " 

"I must bid you good day," interrupted Caper. ''Your 
wife will miss you at the sermon ; you will attribute it to me ; 
and I would not intentionally be the cause of having her ill- 
will for anything." 

" "Well, she is a pretty hard innimy ; and they do talk here 
in Rome, if you don't toe the mark. But ree-ly, you mustn't 
go off mad (smiling). You must call up with Rocjan, and see 
us ; and I ree-ly hope that when your uncle comes, you will 
bring him to my studiyo. I am sure my Enterprise will soot 
him." 

So Chapin saw them out of his studio. Not until Caper 
found himself seated on a stone bench under the ilexes of the 
Villa Borghese, watching the sunbeams darting on the little 
lizards, and seeing far off the Albanian Mountains, snow-capped, 
against the blue sky — not until then did he breathe freely. 

" Rocjean," said he, " that stonecutter down there — that 
Chapin -" 

" Chameau I " roared Rocjean. " He and his kind are 



40 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

doing for art what the Jews did for prize-fighting — they ruin 
it. They make art the laughing stock of all refined and edu- 
cated people. Art, applied solely to sculpture and painting, is 
dead ; it will not rise again in these our times. But art, the 
fairy-fingered beautifier of all that surrounds our homes and 
daily walks, save paintings and statuary, never breathed so 
fully, clearly, nobly, as now; and her pathway amid the 
lowly and homely things around us is shedding beauty 
wherever it goes. The rough-handed artisan, who, slowly 
dreaming of the beautiful, at last turns out a stove that will 
beautify and adorn a room, instead of rendering it hideous, has 
done for this practical generation what he of an earlier theo- 
retical age did for his contemporaries, when he carved the impe- 
rial Venus of Milos. Enough ; this is the sermon not preached 
from stones." 

One sunlight morning in February, while hard at work in 
his studio. Caper was agreeably surprised by the entrance of 
an elderly uncle of his, Mr. Bill Browne, of St. Louis, a 
gentleman of the rosy, stout, hearty school of old bachelors, 
who, having made a large fortune by keeping a Western coun- 
try store, prudently retired from business, and finding it dull 
work doing nothing, wisely determined to enjoy himself with a 
tour over the Continent, " or any other place he might de- 
termine to visit." 

" I say, Jim, did you expect to see me here ? " was his 
first greeting. 

^' Why, Uncle Bill ! Well, you are the last man I ever 
thought would turn up. They didn^t write me a word of your 
coming over," answered Caper. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 41 

*^ Mistake ; they wrote you all about it ; and if you 11 drop 
round at the postoffice, youll find letters there telling you the 
particulars. Fact is, I am ahead of the mail. Coming over 
in the steamer, met a man named Orville ; told me he knew 
you; that he was coming straight through to Eome, and 
offered to pilot me. So I gave up Paris, and all that, jfnd 
came smack through, eighteen days from New York. But 
I'm dry. Got a match ? Here, try one of these cigars." 

Caper took a cigar from his uncle's case, lit it, and then 
calling the man who swept out the studios, sent liim to the 
neighboring wine shop for a bottle "of wine. 

'' By George, Jim, that's a pretty painting ; that jackass is 
fairly alive, and so's the girl with a red boddice. I say, what's 
she got that towel on her head for ? Is it put there to dry ?'' 

" No ; that's an Itahan peasant girl's head-covering. Most 
all of them do so." 

'' Do they ? I'm glad of that. But here comes your man 
with the liquor." 

And, after drinking two or three tumblers full. Uncle Bill 
decided that it was pretty good cider. -The wine finished, 
together with a couple of rolls that came with it, the two sal- 
lied out for a walk around the Pincian Hill, the grand prome- 
nade of Rome. Toward sunset they thought of dinner, and 
Uncle Bill, anxious to see life, accepted Caper's invitation to 
dine at the old Gabioni. Here they ordered the best dishes, 
and the former swore it was as good a dinner as he ever got at 
the Planter's House. Rocjean, who dined there, delighted the 
old gentleman immensely ; and the two fraternized at once, 
and drank each other's health, old style, until Caper, fearing 
that neitlier could conveniently hold more, suggested an ad- 
journment to tlie Greco for coffee and cigars. 



42 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

"While they were in the cafe, Rocjean quietly proposed 
something to Caper, who at once assented. The latter then 
said to Uncle Bill : 

*^ You have arrived in Eome just at the right time. You 
may have heard at home of the great Giacinti family ; well, 
th« Prince Nicolo di Giacinti gives a grand ball to-night at the 
Palazzo Costa. Eocjean and .1 have received invitations, em- 
bracing any illustrious strangers of our acquaintance who may 
happen to be in Rome ; so you must go with us. You have 
no idea, until you come to know them intimately, what a good- 
natured, off-hand set the best of the Roman nobihty are. Com- 
pelled by circumstances to keep up for effect an appearance of 
great reserve and dignity before the public, they indemnify 
themselves for it in private, by having the highest kind of old 
times. They are passionately attached to their native habits 
and costumes ; and though driven, on state occasions especially, 
to imitate French and English habits, yet they love nothing 
better than at times to enjoy themselves in their native way. 
The ball given by the prince to-night is what might be called 
a free-and-easy. It is his particular desire that no one should 
come in full dress ; in fact, he rather likes to have his stranger 
guests come in their worst clothes, for this prevents the atten- 
tion of the public being called to them as they enter the 
palace. After you have lived some time in Rome, you will 
see how necessary it is to keep dark ; so you will see no flaring 
light at the palace gate ; it*s all quiet and commonplace as pos- 
sible. The dresses, you must remember, are assumed for the 
occasion, because they are, or were, the national costume, 
which is fast disappearing; and if it were not for the noble 
wearers you will see to-night, you could not find them any- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 43 

where in Rome. You will perhaps think the nobility at the 
ball hardly realize your ideas of Italian beauty and refinement, 
compared with the fine specimens of men and women you may 
have seen among the Italian opera singers at home. "Well, 
these same singers are picked specimens, and are chosen for^ 
their height and muscular development from the whole nation, 
so that strangers may think all the rest at home are like them. 
It is a little piece of deception we can pardon." 

After this long prelude, Eocjean proposed that they should 
try a game of billiards in the Cafe Nuovo. After they had 
played a game or two, and drunk several mezzo calclos, or rum 
punches, they walked up the Corso to the Via San Claudio, 
No. 48, and entered the palace gate. It was very dark after 
they entered, so Eocjean, telling them to wait one moment, lit 
a cerina, or piece of waxed cord — an article indispensable to a 
Eoman — and, crossing the broad courtyard, they entered a 
small door, and after climbing and twisting and turning, found 
a ticket'taker, and the next minute were in the ball room. 

Uncle Bill was delighted with the excessively free-and-easy 
ball of Prince Giacinti, but was very anxious to know the 
names of the nobility, and Eocjean politely undertook to point 
oulf the celebrities, offering kindly to introduce him to any one 
he might think looked sympathetic — "what they called sim* 
patico in Italian," explained Eocjean. 

*^ That pretty girl in Ciociara costume, is the Condessa, or 
Countess Stella di Napoli." 

"Introduce me," said Uncle Bill. 

Eocjean went through the performance, concluding thus : 
" The countess expresses a wish that you should order a hoU 
tiglia (about two bottles) of red wine." 



44 AMERICANS IN HOME. 

" Go ahead," quoth Uncle Bill ; '' for a nobility ball this 
comes as near a dance-house affair, as I ever want to approach. 
By the way, who is that pickpocket-looking genius, with eyes 
like a blacksnake ? " 

"Who is that?'' said Eocjean, theatrically. "Chut! a 
word in your ear : that is An-to-neMi I " 

*' The devil ! But I heard some one only a few minutes 
ago call him Angeluccio." 

" That was done satirically, for it means *big angeV which 
you, who read the papers, know that Antonelh is not But 
here comes the wine, and I see the countess looks dry. Pour 
out a half dozen glasses for her. The Roman women, high and 
low, paddle in wine like ducks, and it never upsets them ; for, 
like ducks, their feet are so large, that neither you nor wine 
can throw them. I wish you could speak Italian, for here 
comes the Princess Giacinta con Marchese " 

" I wish," said Uncle Bill, " you would talk Enghsh." 

" Well," continued Eocjean, " with the Marchioness Nina 
Eomana, if you like that better. Shall I introduce you ? " 

*^ Certainly," replied the old gentleman, " and order two 
more what-d'ye-call-'ems. It's cheap — this knowing a princess 
for a quart of red teaberry toothwash, for that's what this 
^wine' amounts to. I am going to dance to-night, for the 
Princess Giacinta is a complete woman after my heart, and 
weighs her two hundred pound any day." 

The nobility now began begging Eocjean and Caper to 
introduce them to his excellency II vecchio^ or the old man ; 
and Uncle Bill, in his enthusiasm at finding himself surrounded 
with so many princes — Allegrini, Pelhgrini, Sapgrini, and Dun- 
greeny — compelled Caper to order up a barrel of wine, set it 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 45 

a-tap, and tell the nobility to '' go in." It is needless to say 
that they went in. Many of the costumes were very rich, 
especially those of the female nobility ; and in the rush for a 
glass of wine, the efiect of the brilhant draperies flying here 
and there, strugghng and pushing, was notable. The musi- 
cians, who were standing on what appeared to be barrels 
draped with white cloth, jumped down, and tried their luck at 
the wine cask, and, after satisfying their thirst, returned to 
their duties. There was a guitar, mandolin, violin, and flute, 
and the music was good for dancing. Uncle Bill was pounced 
on by the Princess Giacinta, and whirled off into some kind of 
a dance, he did not know what ; round flew the room and the 
nobility ; round flew barrels of teaberry toothwash, beautiful 
princesses, big devils of Antonellis. Lights, flash, hum, buzz, 
buzz, zzz — 000 — zoom ! 

Uncle Bill opened his eyes as the sunlight shed one golden 
bar into his sleeping room at the Hotel d'Europe, and there, by 
his bedside, sat his nephew, Jim Caper, reading a letter, while 
on a table near at hand was a goblet full of ice, a bottle of 
hock, and another bottle corked, with string over it. 

" It's so-da wa-ter," said Uncle Bill, musing aloud. 

" Hallo, uncle, you awake ? " asked Caper, suddenly raising 
his eyes from his letter. 

" I am, my son. Give thy aged father thy blessing, and 
open that hock and soda water quicker ! I say, Jim, now, 
what became of the nobility, the Colonnas and Aldobrandinis, 
after they finished that barrel ? Strikes me some of them will 
have an owlly appearance this morning." 

" You don't know them," answered Caper. 

''I am beginning to believe I don't, too," spoke Uncle Bill. 
" I say, now, Jim, where did we go last night ? '* ^ 



46 AMEKICANSINR0 3IE. 

" "Why, Uncle Bill, to tell you the plain truths we went to 
a ball at the Costa Palace ; and a model ball it was, too." 

" I have you ! Models who sit for you painters. Well, if 
they arn't nobility, they drink like kings, so it's all right.' 
Give us the hock, and say no more about it." 



CHAPTEK III. 

There was an indefinable charm, to a lively man like 
Caper, in spending a day in the open country around Eome. 
Whether it was passed, gun in hand, near the Solfatara, trying 
to shoot snipe and woodcock, or, with paintbox and stool, 
seated under a large white cotton umbrella, sketching in the 
valley of Poussin, or out on the Yia Appia, that day was inva^ 
riably marked down to be remembered. 

On one of those golden February mornings, when the 
pretty English girls tramp through the long grass of the Yilla 
Borghese, gathering the perfumed violets into those modest 
little bouquets, that peep out from their setting of green leaves, 
like faith struggling with jealousy, Caper, Eocjean, and a good- 
natured German, named Von Bluhmen, made an excursion out 
in the Campagna. 

They hired a one-horse vetturo in the Piazza di Spagna, 
and packing in their sketching materials, and a basket well 
filled with luncheon and bottles of red wine, started off, soon 
reaching the Saint Sebastian gate. Further on, they passed 
the tomb of Cecilia Metella, and saw streaming over the Cam- 
pagna the Eoman hunt-hounds, twenty couples, making straight 
tails after a red fox, while a score of well-mounted horsemen — 
here and there a red coat and white breeches — came riding 



48 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

furiously after. Along the roadside were handsome open car- 
riages, filled with wit and beauty, talent and petticoats ; and 
bright were the blue eyes, and red the healthy cheeks of the 
English girls, as they saw how well their countrymen and 
lovers led off the chase. Englishmen have good Jipgs. 

Continuing along the Appian Way, either side of which 
was bordered by tombs crumbling to decay ; some of them 
covered with Nature's lace, the graceful ivy, others with only 
a pile of turf above them, others with shattered column and 
mutilated statue at their base^ — the occupants of the vetturo 
were silent. They saw before them the wide plain, shut in on 
the horizon by high mountains, with snow-covered peaks and 
sides, w^hile they were living in the warmth of an American 
June morning ; the breeze that swept over them was gentle 
and exhilarating ; in the long grass waving by the wayside, 
they heard the shrill cries of the cicalas ; while the clouds, 
driven along the wide reach of heaven, assuming fantastic 
forms, and in changing light and shadow mantling the distant 
mountains, gave our trio a rare chance to study cloud effects to 
great advantage. 

" I say, driver, what's your name ? " asked Eocjean of the 
vetturino. 

^^ Cffisar, padrone mio^'' answered the man. 

"Are you descended from the celebrated Julius?" asked 
Caper, laughing. 

" Yes, sir ; my grandfather's name was Julius." 

" That every like is not the same, Caesar ! 
The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon," 

soliloquized Caper ; and as by this time they had reached a 



AMEKICANSINBOME. 49 

place where both he and Rocjean thought a fine view of the 
ruined aqueduct might be taken, they ordered the driver to 
stop, and, taking out their sketching materials, sent him back to 
Rome, telHng him to come out for them about four o'clock, 
when they would be ready to return. 

"While they were yet in the road, there came along a very 
large countryman, mounted on a very small jackass. He was 
sitting side-saddle fashion, one leg crossed over the other, the 
lower leg nearly touching the ground. One hand held a pipe 
to his mouth, while the other held an olive branch, by no 
means an emblem of peace to the jackass, who twitched one 
long ear, and then the other, in expectation of a momentary 
visit from it on either side of his head. Following, at a dutiful 
distance behind, came a splendid specimen of a Roman peasant- 
woman, a true contadina. Poised on her head was a very 
large round basket, from over the edge of which sundry chick- 
ens' heads and cocks' feathers arose; and while Caper was 
looking at the basket, he saw two tiny little arms stuck up 
suddenly above the chickens, and then heard a faint squall — it 
was her baby. An instantaneous desire seized Caper to make 
a rough sketch of the family group ; and hailing the man, he 
asked him for a light to his cigar. The jackass was stopped by 
pulling his left ear — the ears answering for reins — and after 
giving a light, the man was going on, when Caper, taking a 
scudo from his pocket, told him that if he would let him make 
a sketch of himself, wife, and jackass, he would give it to him, 
telling him also that he would not detain them over an hour. 

" If you'll give me a huona mano besides the scudo^ I'll do 
it," he answered. 

The huona mano is the ignis fatuus that leads on three 
3 



50 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

fourths of the Italians ; it is the bright spark that wakes them 
up to exertion. No matter what the fixed price for doing any- 
thing maj be, there must always be a something undefined 
ahead of it, to crown the work when accomplished. It makes 
labor a lottery ; it makes even sawing wood a species of gam- 
bling. Caper promised a huona mano. 

The man told his wife that the Signore was to make a 
ntratto, a picture of them all, including the jackass, at which 
she laughed heartily, showing a splendid set of brilliantly white 
teeth. A finer type of woman it would be hard to find, for 
she was tall, straight, with magnificent bust and broad hips. 
Her hair, thick and black, was drawn back from her forehead 
like a Chinese, and was confined behind her head with two 
long silver pins, the heads representing flowers ; heavy, cres- 
cent-shaped gold earrings hung from her ears ; around her full 
throat circled two strings of red coral beads. Her boddice of 
crimson cloth was met by the well filled out-folds of her white 
linen shirt, the sleeves of which fell from her shoulders below 
her elbows, in full, graceful folds ; her skirt was of heavy white 
woollen stuff, while her blue apron, of the same material, had 
three broad stripes of golden yellow, one near the top, and the 
other two near each other at the bottom ; the folds of the 
apron were few, and fell in heavy, regular lines. A full, 
liquid-brown pair of eyes gazed calmly on the painter, as she 
stood beside her husband, easily, gracefully ; without a sign 
from the artist, taking a position that the most studied care 
could not have improved. 

" Benissimo ! " cried Caper, ^^ the position couldn t be bet- 
ter ; " and seizing his sketch book and pencils, unfolding his 
umbrella and planting its spiked end in the ground, and arrang- 



AMERICANS IN BO ME. 51 

ing his sketching stool, he was in five minutes hard at work, 
As soon as he could draw the basket, he told the woman she 
might take it from her head, and put it on the ground, for he 
beheved the weight must incommode her. This done, she 
resumed her position, and Caper, working with all his might, 
had his sketch sufficiently finished before the hour was over to 
tell his group that it was finished, at the same time handing the 
man a scud.o and a handsome huona mano. 

Eocjean and Von Bluhmen, who had assiduously looked on, 
now and then joking with the contadino and his wife, proposed, 
after the sketch was finished, that Caper should ask his friends 
to help them finish their luncheon. This was joyously agreed 
to, and the party, having left the road, and found a pleasant 
spot, under a group of ilex trees, were soon busy finishing the 
eatables. It was refreshing to see how the handsome conta- 
dina emptied glass after glass of red wine. The husband did 
his share of drinking, but his wife eclipsed him. Having 
learned from Caper that his first name was Giacomo, she 
shouted forth a rondinella, making up the words as she went 
along, and in it gave a ludicrous account of Giacomo, the artist, 
who took a jackasses portrait, herself and husband holding him, 
and the baby squalling in harmony. This met with an embar- 
rassment of success, and amid the applause of Rocjean, Caper, 
and Von Bluhmen, the contadino^ wife, and baggage departed. 
She, however, told Caper where she lived in the Campagna, 
and that she had a beautiful little sister, whose ritratta he 
should take, if he would come to see her. 

[It is needless to inform the reader that he went'\ 
Lighting cigars, Rocjean and Caper declared they must 
have a siesta, even if they had to doze on their stools, for 



52 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

neither of them ever could accustom himself to the Eoman 
fashion of throwing one's self on the ground, and sleeping with 
their faces to the earth. Yon Bluhmen, a fiery amateur of 
sketching, walked off to take a ''near view" of the aqueduct, 
and the two artists were left to repose. 

" I say, Caper, does it ever come into your head to people 
all this broad Campagna with old Romans ? " asked Rocjean. 

" Yes ; all the time. Do you know, that when I am out 
here, and stumble over the doorway of an old Roman tomb, or 
find one of those thousand caves in the tufa rock, I often have 
a curious feeling, that from out that tomb or cave will stalk 
forth, in broad daylight, some old Roman centurion or senator, 
in flowing robe." 

" Do you ever think," asked Rocjean, *' of those seventy 
thousand poor devils of Jews who helped build the Coliseum 
and the Arch of Titus ? Do you ever reflect over the millions 
of slaves who worked for these same poetical, flowing-robed old 
senators and centurions ? Ma foi ! for a repubhc, you men of 
the United States have a finished education for anything but 
republicans. The great world-long struggle of a few to crush 
and destroy the many, you learn profoundly ; you know in all 
its glittering cruelty and horror the entire history, and you 
weave from it no godlike moral. Nothing astonished me 
more, during my "residence in the United States, than this same 
lack of drawing from the experience of ages the deduction that 
you were the only really blessed and happy nation in the 
world. Your educated men know less of the history of their 
own country, and feel less its sublime teachings, than any other 
race of men in the world. The instruction your young men 
receive at school and college, in what way does it prepare 
them to become men fit for a republic ? " 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 53 

" You are preaching a sermon," said Caper. 

" I am reciting the text ; the sermon will be preached by 
the god of battles to the roar of cannons and the crack of 
rifles, and I hope you'll profit by it after you hear it." 

*'Well," interrupted Caper, *'what do you think of the 
English ? " 

" For a practical people, they are the greatest fools on the 
earth. Thoroughly convinced at heart that they have no 
esprit^ they rush in to show the world that they have a super- 
abundance of it. . . . It interferes with their principles, 
no matter ; it touches their pockets, behold ! it is gone, and 
the cold, flat, dead reality stares you in the face." 

" You are a Frenchman, Eocjean, and you do them injus- 
tice. Had Shakspeare no esprit? " asked Caper. 

" Shakspeare was a Frenchman," replied Rocjean. 

'^ We— 11 ! " 

" Prove to me that he was not ? " 

*' Prove to me that he was ! " 

" Certainly. The family of Jacques Pierre was as cer- 
tainly French as Raimond de Rocj can's. Jacques Pierre 
became Shakspeare at once, on emigrating to England, and the 
'Immortal Williams,' recognizing the advantages to a poor 
man of living in a country where only the guineas dance, took 
up his abode there, and made the music for the money to jump 
into his pockets." 

^'Yery ingenious. But in relation to Byron, Shelley, 
Keats, Tennyson, and — as we are in Italy — Rogers ? " 

'' Mon ami, if you seriously prefer ice cream and trifle to 
venison and dindon aux truffes, choose. If either one of the 
four poets — I do not include Rogers among poets — ever con* 



54 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

ceived in his mind, and then produced on paper, a work, com- 
posed from his memory, of things terrible in nature, more sub- 
hme than Dante's Inferno^ I will grant you that he had esprit 
and imagination ; otherwise, not. It is of the English as a 
nation, however, that I make my broad and sweeping assertion 
— one that was fixed in my mind yesterday, when I saw a 
well-dressed and y^eW-educated Englishman deliberately pick up 
a stone, knock off the head of a figure carved on a sarcopha- 
gus, found in one of those newly-discovered tombs on the Via 
Latina, and put the broken head in his pocket. 
What man, with one grain of esprit or imagination in his head, 
would mutilate a work of ancient art, solely that he might 
possess a piece of stone, when memory had already placed the 
entire work forever in his mind ? Basta I enough. Look at 
the effect of the sunlight on the Albanian mountains. How 
proudly Mount Gennaro towers over the desolate Campagna ! 
Hallo ! Von Bluhmen, down there, is in trouble. Come 
along." 

Throwing down his umbrella, under which he had been sit- 
ting in the shade, Rocjean grasped the iron-pointed shaft, into 
which the handle of the umbrella fitted, and, accompanied by 
Caper, rushed to the rescue of the German. It was none too 
soon. While sketching, a shepherd, with a very large flock 
of sheep, had gradually approached nearer and nearer the spot 
where the artist was sitting at his task. His dogs, eight or ten 
in number, fierce, shaggy, white and black beasts, with slouch- 
ing gait and pointed ears and noses, followed near him. As 
Von Bluhmen paid no attention to them, the shepherd had 
wandered off; but one or two of his dogs hung back, and the 
artist, dropping a pencil, suddenly stooped to pick it up, when 



AMEEICANSIKEOME. 55 

one of the savage creatures, thinking or "instincting'^ that a 
stone was coming at him, rushed in, with loud barking, to 
make mincemeat of the German noble. He seized his camp 
stool, and kept the dog at bay ; but in a moment the whole 
pack were down on him. Just at this instant, in rushed Roc- 
jean, staff in hand, beating the beasts right and left, and shout- 
ing to the shepherd, who was but a short distance off, to call 
off his dogs. But the pecorajo^ evidently a cross-grained fel- 
low, only blackguarded the artist, until Rocjean, whose blood 
was up, swore, if he did not call them off, he would shoot 
them, pulling a revolver from his pocket, and aiming at the 
most savage dog as he spoke. The shepherd only black- 
guarded him the more, and, just as the dog grabbed him by 
the pantaloons, Rocjean pulled the trigger, and with foaming 
jaws and blood pouring from his mouth, the dog fell dead at 
his feet. The shot scared the other dogs, who fled, tails under. 
The shepherd ran for the entrance of a cave, and came out in 
a minute with a single-barrelled gun. Coming down to within 
twenty feet of Rocjean, he cocked it, and taking aim, screamed 
out : " Give me ten scudi for that dog, or I fire.'^ 

" Do you see that pistol ? " said Rocjean to the shepherd, 
•while he held up his revolver. ^' I have five loads in it yet.'^ 
And then advancing straight toward him, with death in his 
eyes, he told him to throw down his gun, or he was a dead 
man. . . . Down fell the gun. Rocjean picked it up. 
*^ To-morrow," said he, "inquire of the chief of police in Rome 
for this gun, and for the ten scudi! ^^ 

They were never called for. 

"You see," said Caper, as, shortly after this little excite- 
ment, the one-horse vetturo, bearing Caesar and his fortunes, 



56 AMERICANS IN HOME. 

hove in sight, and they entered, and returned to Eome ; *^ you 
see how charming it is to sketch on the Campagna." 

" Yery," rephed Yon Bluhmen ; *' but, my dear Eocjean, 
how long were you in America ? " 

" Ten years." 

^^Mein GottI they were not wasted." 

It is not at all astonishing that a god who was born to the 
tune of Jove^s thunderbolts, should have escaped scot free from 
the thunders of the Yatican, and should prove at the present 
time one of the strongest opponents to the latter kind of fire- 
works. "We read, in the work of that learned Jesuit, Galtru- 
chius, that 

" Bacchus was usually painted with a mitre upon his head, an orna- 
ment proper to Women. He never had other Priests but Satyrs and 
Women ; because the latter had followed him in great Companies in his 
Journeys, crying, singing, and dancing continually. Titus Livius relates 
a strange story of the Festivals of Bacchus in Rome. Three times in a 
year, the Women of all qualities met in a Grove called Simila, and there 
acted all sorts of Villainies ; those that appeared most reserved were sac- 
rificed to Bacchus ; and that the cries of the ravished Creatures might 
not be heard, they did howl, sing, and run up and down with lighted 
Torches." 

The May and October festivals in Eome, at present, are 
substituted for the Bacchanalian orgies, and are, of course, not 
so objectionable, in many particulars, as the ancient ceremo- 
nies ; still, no stranger in Eome, at these times, should neglect 
to attend them. Caper entered Eome at night, during the 
October festival, and the carriage loads of Eoman women, 
waving torches and singing tipsily, forcibly reminded him that 
the Bacchante still lived, and only needed a very little encour- 
agement to revive their ancient rites in full. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 57 

Sentimental travellers tell you that the Romans are a tem- 
perate people. They have never seen the people. They have 
never seen the delight that reigns in the heart of the plehs^ 
when they learn that the vintage has been good, and that good 
wine will be sold in Rome for three or four cents la foglietta 
(about a pint, American measure). They have never visited 
the spacii di vini^ the wineshops. They have never heard of 
the murders committed when the wine was in and the wit out. 
None of these things ever appear in the Giornale di Roma or 
in the Vero Amico del Popolo^ the only newspapers published 
in Rome. 

^' Roman newspapers," said an inteUigent Roman to Caper, 
" were invented to conceal the news." 

The first thing that a foreigner does on entering Rome, is 
to originate a derogatory name for the juice of the grape 
native to the soil, the vino nostrah. He calls it, if red wine, 
red ink, pink cider, red tea ; if white wine, balm of goose- 
berries, blood of turnips, apple juice, alum water, and slops for 
babes ; finally, ... if not killed off with a fever, from 
drinking the adulterated foreign wines, spirits, and liqueurs 
sold in the city, he takes kindly to the Roman wines, and does 
not worry his great soul about them. 

The truth is, that while other nations have done everything 
to improve wine-making, Italy follows the same careless way 
she has done for centuries. Far more attention was bestowed 
on the grape, too, in ancient times than now ; and we read 
that vineyards were so much cultivated, to the neglect of agri- 
culture, that, under Domitian, an edict forbade the planting of 
any new vineyards in Italy. 

One brilliant morning in October, Caper, who was then 



68 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

living in a town perched atop of a conical mountain, descended 
five or six miles on foot, and passed a day in a vineyard, in 
order to see the vintage. The vines were trained on trees or 
on sticks of cane, and the peasant girls and women were busy 
picking the great bunches of white or purple grapes, which were 
thrown into copper conclie^ or jars. These conche^ when filled, 
were carried on the head to a central spot, where they were 
emptied on fern leaves placed on the ground to receive them. 
And from these piles, the w^ooden barrels of the mules return- 
ing from the town were filled w4th the grapes, which were car- 
ried up there to be pressed. 

The grape crop had been so affected by the malattia^ or 
blight, that, the yield being small, the fruit to an extent was 
not pressed in the vineyards, and the juice only brought up to 
the town in goat-skins as usual ; but the fruit itself was carried 
up by those having the proper places, and was pressed in tubs 
in the cantinej or rooms on the ground floor, where the wine is 
kept. Across the huge saddles of the mules they swung a 
couple of truncated, cone-shaped barrels, and filled them with 
grapes ; these were tumbled into tubs, ranged in the canttna, 
good, bad, and indifferent fruit all together ; and when enough 
were poured in, in jumped the pistatore cfuve^ or grape presser, 
with bare legs and feet, and began pressing and stamping, until 
the juice ran out in a tolerable stream. This juice was then 
poured into a headless hogshead, and, when more than half 
full, they piled on the grapeskins and stones and stems that 
had undergone the pressure, until the hogshead was full to the 
top. A weight was then placed over all. In twenty days, 
fermentation haviijg taken place, they drew from the hogshead 
the new wine, which was afterward clarified with whites of 
eggs. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 59 

In this rough-and-ready way, the common wine is made. 
Without selection, all grapes, ripe, unripe, and rotten, sweet 
and sour, are mashed up together, hurriedly and imperfectly 
pressed, and the wine is sent to market, to sell for what it will 
bring. Having thus seen it made, let us see it disposed of. 

Of all the monuments to Bacchus, in Rome, the one near 
the pyramid of Caius Cestius, and still nearer the Protestant 
burying ground, is by far the most noticeable. Jealous of the 
lofty manner in which it lifts its head above the surrounding 
fields and walls of the city, the church has seen fit to crown its 
head with a cross, which it seems inclined to shake ofi*. This 
small mountain of a monument is conical in shape, and is com- 
posed entirely of broken crockery ; hence its name, Testaccio. 
In its crockery sides, they have found a certain coolness and 
evenness of temperature exactly suited to the storage of wine, 
and to maturing it ; hence, all around the mountain are deep 
vaults, filled with red and white wines, working themselves up 
for a fit state to enter into the joy and the gullets of the 
Roman minenti. 

If the reader of this sketch is at all of a philosophical 
frame of mind, and should ever visit Rome, it is the writer's 
advice that, in the first place, having learned Italian enough, 
and, in the second place, having his purse fairly filled — silver 
will do — he should, during the month of October, on a holiday, 
go out to Monte Testaccio alone, or at least in company with 
some one who knows enough to let him be alone when he 
wants to be with somebody else, and then and there fraterniz- 
ing for a few hours with the Roman plebs^ let him at his ease 
see what he shall see, Then shall he sit him down at the door 
of the Antica Osteria di Cappanone^ at the rough wood table, 



60 AMERICANS IN ROME 

on a rouglier wooden bench ; talk, right and left, with tailors, 
shoemakers, artists, soldiers, and God knows what, drinking 
the cool, amber-colored wine of Monte Rotonda, gleaming 
brightly in the sunhght that dashes through his glass, and so 
cheerfully winning the good Avill of them all — and of some of 
the young women who are with them — that he shall find him- 
self at some future time either the sheath for a Roman knife, or 
the recipient of a great deal of affection, and the purchaser of 
indefinite hottiglie of vino nostrale. 

In his ardent pursuit of natural art, Caper believed it his 
duty to hunt up the picturesque wherever it could be found ; 
and it was while pursuing this duty, in company with Rocjean, 
that he found himself at Monte Testaccio, one October day, 
and there made his debut. After a luncheon of raw ham, 
bread, cheese, sausage, and a hottiglia of wine, they ascended 
the mountain, and sitting down at the foot of the cross, they 
quietly smoked and communed with nature unreservedly. 

Crumbling old walls of Rome that lay before them ; wild, 
uncultivated Campagna ; purple range of mountains, snow- 
tipped ; thousand-legged, ruined aqueducts ; distant sea^ but 
faintly revealed through the veil of haze-bounded horizon ; 
yellow Tiber, flowing along crumbling banks ; dome of St. 
Peter's, rising above the hill that shuts the Vatican from sight ; 
pyramid of Caius Cestius ; Protestant burying ground, with 
the wind sighing through the trees a lullaby over the graves 
of Shelley and Keats ; distant view of Rome, slumbering 
artistically, and not manufacturingly, in the sunlight of that 
morning — ye taught one man of the two wild hopes for Rome 
of the future. 

At the foot of the mountain, and adjoining the Protestant 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 61 

burying ground, there is a powder magazine. Here a French 
soldier, acting as sentry, paced his weary round. It was not 
long before a couple of Roman women passed him. They 
saluted him ; he saluted them. They passed behind the maga- 
zine. The sentry, with the courtesy which distinguishes 
Frenchmen, evidently desired to make his compliments and 
pay his addresses to the dames. How could this be done ? 
Before long, two of his compatriots, evidently out for a holi- 
day, passed him. He beckoned to one of them, who at once 
took his gun and turned sentry, while the relieved guard flew 
to display to the dames his national courtesy. Before Caper 
had time to smoke a second cigar, the soldier returned to duty, 
and the one who had relieved him sprung to pay his addresses. 
During the two hours that Caper and Rocjean studied the 
scenery, guard was relieved four times. 

"Ah!" said Rocjean, "we are a gallant nation. Let us 
therefore descend and mingle with what the high-minded John 
Bulls call " the lower orders." 

Down they went, and at the first table they came to they 
found their shoemaker, the Signore Eugenio Calzolajo, artist in 
leather, seated with three Roman women. They all resembled 
each other like three pins. The eldest one held a baby, the 
caro hamhtnOj in her arms. She was probably twenty years 
old. The next one was not over eighteen ; while the youngest 
had evidently not passed her sixteenth year. 

The artist in leather saluted Caper and Rocjean with the 
title of Illustrissimi (they both paid their bills punctually), 
and, as he saw that the other tables were full, he at once made 
room for theni, introducing them to his w^fe and her two sis- 
ters. Caper, who saw that the party had just arrived, and had 



62 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

not as yet had time to order anything from the waiters, told 
them that the day being his birthday, it was customary among 
the North American Indians always to celebrate it with a feast 
of roast dogs and bottled porter ; but, as neither of these 
articles were to be found at Monte Testaccio, he should com- 
mand what they had ; and arresting a waiter, he ordered such 
a supply of food and wine, that the eyes of the three Roman 
girls opened wide as owls'. Their tongues were all unloosened 
at once, as if by magic, and Caper had the satisfaction of see- 
ing, that for what a bottle of hotel champagne costs in the 
United States, he had provided joy unadulterated, and happy 
memories for many days, for several descendants of the Caesars. 

"While the wine circulated freely, the eldest of the unmar- 
ried girls, named Elisa, began joking Caper about his being a 
heretic, and " a little devil," and asked him to take off his hat, 
fo see if he had horns. Caper told her he was as yet unmar- 
ried, . . . and that, amors g the Indians, bachelors were 
never allowed to take their hats off before maidens. ^* But," 
said he, " what makes you think I am a heretic ? Wasn't I at 
St. Peter's yesterday, and at the confessionals ? " 

" Yes, you were at them, like an old German gentleman I 
once knew," said Elisa. " Some of his friends saw him one 
morning at the German confessional box, and knowing that 
he was a heretic, asked him what he was doing there ? 
' Diavolo I ' said he, * can't a man have a comfortable mouth- 
ful of German, without changing religions ? ' " 

*'For my part," said Rita, the youngest sister, ^'I.only go 
to confessional, because I have to ; and I only confess what I 
want to." 

" Bravo I " exclaimed Bocjean ; " I must jpa'int your joor- 
traiC 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 63 

'* Benissimo ! and who will paint mine ? '^ asked Elisa. 

*'I will," said Caper, *^but on condition that vou let me 
keep a copy of it." . . . 

Arrangements completed, Rocjean ordered more wine ; and 
then the artist in leather ordered more; then Caper's turn 
came. After this, the party, which had been gradually grow- 
ing jolly and jollier, would have danced, had they not all had 
a holy horror of the prison of San Angelo. The married sis- 
ter, Domenica, was a full-blooded Trasteverina^ in her gala 
dress, and had one of those beautiful-shaped heads that Caper 
could only compare to a quail's. Her jet-black hair, smoothed 
close to her head, was gathered in a large roll that fell low on 
her neck behind, and held by a silver spadina^ or pin, that, if 
occasion demanded, would make a serviceable stiletto. Her 
full face w^as brown, while the red blood shone through her 
cheeks, and her lips were full and ripe. Her eyes of deep 
gray, shaded with long black lashes, sparkled with light when 
she was aroused. Her sisters resembled her strikingly, except 
Rita, the youngest, whose face was of that singularly delicate 
hue of white, the color of the magnolia flower, as one of our 
American writers has it ; or like the white of a boiled egg 
next to the yolk, as Caper expressed it. Be this as it may, 
there was something very attractive in this pallor, since it was 
accompanied by an embonpoint indicating anything but roman- 
tic meagreness of constitution. 

Domenica had, without exaggeration, the value of a dozen 
or two pairs of patent-leather boots hung on her neck, arms, 
fingers, ears, and bosom, 'in the shape of furious-sized pieces of 
gold jewelry ; and it was solid gold. The Roman women, 
from the earliest days — from the time when Etruscan artists 



64 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

made those ponderous chains and bracelets, down to the pres- 
ent date — have had the most unbridled love for jewelry. Do 
we not know^ that 

Sabina's garters were worth ..... $200,000 

Faustina's finger ring, 200,000 

Domitia's ring, 800,000 

Caesonia's bracelet, 400,000 

Poppsea's earrings, 600,000 

Calpurina's (Caesar's wife) earrings, " above suspicion," 1,200,000 

Sabina's diadem, 1,200,000 

And after this, is it at all astonishing that the desire remains 
for it, even if the substance has been plundered and carried off 
by those forestieri^ the Huns, Vandals, Goths, Visigoths, 
Norsemen, and other heretics who have visited Eome ? 

While they were all busily drinking and talking, Caper had 
noticed that the wine was beginning to have its effects on the 
large crowd who had assembled at the Osterias and Trattorias 
around the foot of the Bacchic mountain. Laughing and talk- 
ing, shouting and singing began to be in the ascendant, and 
gravity was voted indecent. 

^' Ha ! " said Rocjean, "for one hour of the good old classic 
days ! '' 

" What ! " answered Caper ; " with those seventy thou- 
sand old Jews you were preaching about the other day ? " 

" Never ! — with the Bacchante. But here, our friends are 
off. Let us help them into the carriage." 

As the sun went down, the minenti began to crowd toward 
Eome. More than one spadina flashed in the hands of the 

* Vide Gems and Jewels. Bv Madame de Barrera. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 65 

slightly-tight maidens who were on foot. Those of the men 
who had carriages, foreseeing the inflammable spirit aroused, 
packed the women in by themselves, gave them lighted torches, 
and cut them adrift, to float down the Corso ; they following in 
separate carriages. 

• • • • • • • 

"Ah! really, and pray, Mrs. Jobson, don't you think that 
it's — ah ! a beau-ti-ful sight ; they tell me — ah ! it's the peasants 
returning from visiting the shrine of the — ah 1 Madonna — ah ? " 

" And I think it is most charming, Mister Lushington ; and 
I remember me now that Lady Fanny Errol — poor thing ! — 
said it would be a charming sight. And the poor creatures 
seem much happier than our own lower orders ; they do, to be 
sure." 

• •••••• 

" Lord ! " groaned Caper, as he overheard the above 
dialogue ; " allow me to retire." 

As an animal-painter, Mr. Caper was continually hunting 
up materials for sketches. He made excursions into the Cam- 
pagna, to see the long-horned gray oxen and the hideous buffa- 
loes ; watching the latter along the yellow Tiber, when, in the 
springtime, they coquetted in the mud and water. He 
sketched goats and sheep, tended by the picturesquely-dressed 
shepherds, and guarded by the fierce dogs that continually 
encircled them. In four words, he studied animal-ated nature. 

On his first arrival in Rome, he had purchased one of those 
sprightly little vettura dogs, all wool and tail, that the traveller 
remarks mounted on top of the travelling carriages that enter 
and leave Rome. Witn a firm footnold, they stand on the 



66 AMERICANS IN BOME. 

very top of all the baggage that may be piled on the- roof of 
the coach ; and there, standing guard and barking fiercely, 
seem to thoroughly enjoy the confusion attendant on starting 
the horses, or unloading the baggage. They are seen around 
the carriage-stands where public hacks are hired, and as soon 
as one moves off, up jumps the vettura dog alongside the driver, 
and never leaves the vehicle until it stops. Then, if he sees 
another hack returning to the city, he will jump into that, and 
be carried back triumphant. This sounds like fiction ; but its 
truth will be confirmed by any one who has ever noticed the 
peculiarities of this breed of dogs, which love to ride. 

Caper kept this dog in his studio, and had already made 
several very lifelike studies of him. One morning, leaving his 
lodgings earlier than usual, he met on the stairway of his house 
a countryman driving a goat up stairs to be milked ; the 
Romans thus having good evidence that when they buy goat's 
milk, they don^t purchase water from the fountains. As Caper 
was going out of the door that led into the street, he saw, 
among the flock of goats assembled there, a patriarchal old 
billy, whose beard struck him with dehght. He was looking 
at him in silent veneration, when the goats'-milk man came 
down stairs, driving the ewe before him. He asked the man 
if he would sell the patriarch ; but found that he would not. 
He promised, however, to lend him to Caper until the next 
day for a good round sum, to be paid when the goat was de- 
livered at the studio, which the man said would be in the 
course of an hour. 

Our artist then went down to the Greco, where he break- 
fasted; and there met Rocjean, who proposed to him to go 
that morning to the Piazza Navona, as it was market day, and 



AMERICANS IN KOME. 67 

they would have a fine chance to take notes of the country 
people, their costumes, &c. They first went around to Caper's 
studio, where they had only to wait a short time before the 
milkman came, driving the old billy goat up stairs before him. 
Caper made him fast with a cord to a heavy table, the top of 
which was a vast receptacle of sketch books, oil colors, books, 
and all kinds of odds and ends. 

Rocjean and he then strolled down to the Piazza Navona, 
where, while walking around, Caper suddenly stumbled over 
the smallest and most comical specimen of a donkey he had 
ever seen. The man who owned him, and who had brought in 
a load of vegetables on the donkey's back, offered to sell him 
very cheap. The temptation was great, and our animal-artist 
bought him at once for five scudi^ alias dollars; but with the 
understanding that the countryman would deliver him at his 
studio at once. In twenty minutes' time, the donkey was 
chmbing up a long flight of stairs to Caper's studio, as seriously 
as if he were crossing the pons astnorum. Once in his studio. 
Caper soon made arrangements to have the donkey kept in a 
stable near by, when he was not sketching him. This matter 
finished, Rocjean helped Caper pen him up in a corner of the 
studio, where he could begin sketching him as soon as he had 
finished portraying the billy goat. The patriarch had made 
several attempts to rush at the vettura dog ; but the string held 
him fast to the table. Rocjean mentioned to Caper that he 
ought to feed his menagerie ; and the porter, being called and 
sent out for some food for the goat and donkey, soon returned 
with a full supply. 

Both artists now set to work in earnest — Caper, with 
paints and brushes, and Rocjean with crayons and sketch book 



68 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

— determined to take the patriarch's portrait while he was in a 
peaceful frame of body and spirit. 

With an intermission for luncheon, they worked until nearly 
four o'clock in the afternoon, when Rocjean proposed taking a 
walk out to the Villa Borghese, and as they returned, on their 
way to dinner, they could stop in at the studio, and see that 
the donkey and goat were driven out to the stable, where they 
could be kept until wanted again. Accordingly, both artists 
walked out to the villa, and had only taken a short turn toward 
the Casino, when they met a New- York friend of theirs, alone 
in a carriage, taking a ride. He ordered the driver to stop, 
and begged them both to get in with him, and, after passing 
through the villa and around the Pincio, to come and take 
dinner with him sociably in his room in the Via Frattina. 
They accepted ; and at ten o'clock that night, while going 
home in a very happy frame of mind, it suddenly occurred to 
Caper that his menagerie ought to have been attended to. 
Rocjean consoled him with the reflection that, having the key 
in his pocket, they could not possibly get out ; so the former 
thought no more about it. 

Early in the morning, having met as usual at the Greco, 
and breakfasted together. Caper and Rocjean walked round to 
the former's studio. Before they entered the door of the 
building, they noticed a small assembly of old women sur- 
rounding the porter ; and as Caper entered the passage way, 
they poured a broadside into him. 

''^ Accidente, Signore^ nobody around here has been able to 
sleep a wink all night long. Santa Maria ! such yells have 
come from your studio, such groans, such horrible noises, as 
if all the devils had broken loose. We are going to the 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 69 

police ; we are going to the gendarmeria ; we are going 
to " 

^^ Go there — and be hanged ! " shouted Caper, breaking 
through the crowd, and, running up stairs two steps at a time, 
he nearly walked into the lap of a tall female model, named 
Giacinta, dressed in Ciociara costume, who was calmly seated 
on the staircase, glaring at another female model, named Nina, 
who stood leaning against the door of his studio. 

" Signer Giacomo, good morning ! " said Giacinta ; *^ didn't 
you tell me to be here at nine o'clock ? " 

*' To be sure I did," replied he. 

*' Then," continued she, *' what is that person there taking 
the bread out of my mouth for ? Cospetto I " 

" Iddio giusto I " cried Nina ; " hear her ; she calls me, me, 
a person ! I, who have a watch and chain, and wear a hooped 
petticoat ! / take the bread out of her mouth ! I a person I 
I'm a lady, per Bacco ! " 

" Tace I " said Rocjean to Nina, ^' or the Signore Giacomo 
will send you flying. "What do you want, Nina ? " 

" I only wanted to see if the Signore intended to paint the 
Lady Godeeva, that he told me about the other day." 

" Wait till I open the studio door, and get out of this 
noise. Those old women down below, and you young ones up 
here, are howling like a lot of hyenas. Here — come in ! " 
. . . As Caper said this, he unlocked the studio door, and 
threw it open. The two models were close at his elbows, while 
Rocjean drew to one side to let them pass in. 

In the next minute. Caper, the two models, a he goat, a 
dirty little donkey, and a yelping dog, were rolling head over 
heels down stairs, one confused mass of petticoats and animals. 



70 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Rocjean roared with laughter. He could do nothing but 
hold his sides, fearful of having an apoplectic fit, or bursting a 
blood-vessel. 

The small donkey slid down stairs on his back, slowly, 
gradually, meekly, his long ears rubbing the way before him. 
But the billy goat was on his feet in an instant, and was 
charging, next thing, full force into the knot of old women 
at the foot of the stairs, who, believing that their last hour 
had come, and that it was Old Nick in person, yelled out : 
*' 'Tis he — the devil ! the devil ! '^ and fled before the horns 
to come. 

Giacinta was the first one on her legs, and after picking up 
the caro Giacomo, alias Caper, and finding he was not hurt, 
she then good-naturedly helped Nina to arrange her tumbled 
garments. 

Rocjean rushed to open the studio windows, to air the 
room, for it had not the odors of the Spice Islands in it. 
Caper hastened to pick up paints, brushes, books, easel, but 
they were too many for him ; and at last, giving it up in de- 
spair, he sat down on a chair. 

" Well I " said he, " there has been a hard fight here ! 
The dog must have tackled the billy goat ; the goat must have 
upset this table, broken his string, and pitched into that dirty 
little donkey ; and the donkey must have put his heels through 
that canvas ; and all three must have broken loose and upset 
us. ... I say, Rocjean, send out for some wine ; / am 
dry, and these girls are, I know." 

Peace was soon made. Nina was promised that she should 
sit for Lady Godiva, as soon as the donkey was caught ; for she 
was to be represented seated on him, instead of a horse. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. Vl 

Giacinta posed for a contadina at a fountain. Eocjean passed 
round the wine, and helped put the studio in order , and 
Caper, brush in hand, painted away, determining that, under 
any circumstances, he never would open another menagerie, 
until he was able to pay a keeper to look after the animals. 



CHAPTER lY. 

No matter how well and hearty you may be, if you are in 
Rome, in summer, when the scirocco blows, you will feel as if 
convalescent from some debilitating fever. In winter, how- 
ever, this gentle-breathing southeast wind will act more mildly ; 
it will woo you to the country, induce you to sit down in a 
shady place, smoke, and "muse." That incarnate essence of 
enterprise, business, industry, economy, sharpness, shrewdness, 
and keenness — that Prometheus whose liver was torn by the 
vulture of cent, per cent. — eternally tossing, restless Doolittle, 
was one day seen asleep, during bank hours, on a seat in the 
Villa Madama. The scirocco blew that day. Doolittle fell. 

At breakfast, one morning in the latter part of the month 
of March, Caper proposed to Rocjean, and another artist named 
Bagswell, to attend the fair held that day at Grotto Ferrata. 

** What will you find there ? " asked Rocjean. 

" Find ? I remember, in the Bohemian Girl^ a song that 
will answer you," replied Caper ; " the words were composed 
by the theatrical poet Bunn " : 

*' Rank, in its halls, may not find 
The calm of a happy mind ; 

So repair 

To the Fair, 
And they may be met with there.'* 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 73 

Unsatisfactory, both the grammar and the sentiment," 
said Bagswell ; ^' it won't work ; it's all wrong. In the first 
place, rank, in its hauls, may find the calm of a happy mind ; 
for instance, the captain of a herring smack may find the calm 
of a very happy mind in his hauls of No. 1 Digbys ; more joy, 
even, than the fair could afford him. Let us go ! " 

Bagswell was a " funny " Englishman. 

They went— taking the railroad. Dashing out of the sta- 
tion, the locomotive carried them, in half an hour, to the station 
at Frascati, whirling them across the Campagna, past long 
lines of ruined or half-ruined and repaired aqueducts; past 
Roman tombs ; past Roma Vecchia, the name given to the 
ruins of an immense villa ; landing them at the first slope of 
the mountains, covered at their base with vineyards, olive and 
fruit trees, and cornfields, while high over them gleamed glis- 
tening-white snow-peaks. 

The walk from Frascati to the Grotto, about three miles, 
was beautiful, winding over hills through a fine wood of huge 
old elms and plane trees. In the warm sunhght, the butterflies 
were flitting, while the roadside was purple with violets, and 
white and blue with little flowers. From time to time our 
three artists had glimpses of the Campagna, rolling away like 
the ocean, to dash on Rome, crowned by St. Peter's ; the dome 
of which church towers above the surrounding country, so that 
it can be seen, far and wide, for thirty miles or more. The 
road was alive with walkers and riders ; here a dashing, open 
carriage, filled with rosy English ; there a contadino^ donkey- 
back, dressed in holiday suit, with short-clothes of blue wool- 
len, a scarlet waistcoat, his coarse blue-cloth jacket worn on 
one shoulder, and in his brown conical-shaped hat a large car- 
4 



74 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

nation-pink. Then came more of the country people, almost 
always called villani (hence our word, villains !). These poor 
villains had sacks on their backs, or were carrying in their 
hands— if women, on their heads — loads of bacon, sides of 
bacon, flitches of bacon, hams, loaves of bread, cheese, and 
very loud-smelling mortadella ; which they had bought, and 
were bringing away from the fair. 

^^ There was one task," said Rocjean, *Hhat Hercules de- 
clined, and that was eating that vile mortadella. He was a 
strong man ; but that was stronger. "Wait a moment, till I fill 
a pipe with caporal, and have a smoke ; for if I meet another 
man with that delicacy, I shall have to give up the Grotto — 
unless I have a pipe under my nose, as counter-irritant." 

The three artists tramped along gayly, until they ap- 
proached the town, when they assumed the proud, disdainful 
mood, assuring spectators that they who wear it are of gentle 
blood, and are tired of life, and weary of travelling around 
with pockets filled with gold. They only looked coldly at the 
pens filled with cattle for sale : long-horned, mouse-colored 
oxen were there ; groups of patient donkeys, or the rough- 
maned, shaggy-fetlocked, bright-eyed small horses of the Cam- 
pagna ; countless pigs, many goats ; while, above all, the loud- 
singing jackasses were performing at the top of their lungs. 
Here were knots of country people, buying provisions or 
clothing; there were groups of carriages from Rome, which 
had rolled out the wealthy forestiertj or strangers, drawn up by 
the wayside, in the midst of all sorts and kinds of hucksters. 
The road leading to the church, shaded by trees, was crowded 
with country people, in picturesque costumes, busily engaged 
in buying and selling hams, bacon, bacon and hams, and a few 



AMEBICANS IN ROME. '75 

more hams. Here and th^^re, a cheese stand languished, for 
pork flourished. Now a coppersmith exposed his wares, chief 
among which were the graceful-shaped conche^ or water vessels, 
the same you see so carefuUj poised on the heads of so manj 
black-ejed Italian girls, going to or coming from so many pic- 
turesque fountains, in — paintings, and all wearing such brilliant 
costumes, as you find at — Gigi's costume class. Then came an 
ironmonger, whose wares were all made by hand, even the 
smallest nails ; for machinery, as yet, is in its first infancy 
around Rome. At this stand, Rocjean stopped to purchase a 
pallet knife ; not one of the regular, artist-made tools, but a 
thin, pliable piece of steel, without handle, which experience 
taught him was well adapted to his work. As usual, the iron- 
man asked twice as much as he intended to take, and, after a 
sharp bargain, Rocjean conquered. Then they came to a stand 
where there were piles of coarse crockery, and some of a bet- 
ter kind, of classical shape. 

Caper particularly admired a beautiful white jug, intended 
for a water pitcher, and holding about two gallons. After ask- 
ing its price, he offered a quarter of the money for it. To 
Bagswell's horror, the crockery man took it, and Caper, pass- 
ing his arm through the handle, was proceeding up the road, 
when Bagswell energetically asked him what he was going to 
do with it. 

" Enter Rome with it, like Titus with the spolia opima^^^ 
replied Caper. 

"Oh ! I say, now," said the former, who was an English- 
man, and an historical painter, "you aren't going to trot all 
over the fair with that old crockery on your arm ! "Why, God 
bless me ! they'll swear we are drunk. There comes the 
Duchess of Brodneck ; what the deuce will she say ? " 



76 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

*' Say ? " said Caper ; " why, I'll go and ask her. This is 
not court day.'' 

Without another word, with water pitcher on arm, he 
walked toward the duchess. Saluting her with marked polite- 
ness, he said : 

"A countryman of yours, madame, has objected to my 
carrying this ohjet de fantoAsie^ assuring me that it would occa- 
sion remarks from the Duchess of Brodneck. May I have the 
good fortune to know what she says of it ? " 

'^ She says," replied the lady, smiling, and speaking slowly 
and quietly, " that a young man who has independence enough 
to carry it, has confidence enough to — fill it." She bowed, 
and passed on. Caper politely raising his hat, in acknowledg- 
ment of the well-rounded sentence. "When he returned to 
Bagswell, he found the historical painter with eyes the size of 
grapeshot, at the sublime impudence of the man. He told 
him what she had said. 

" Upon my honor, you Americans have a face of brass ; to 
address a duchess you don't know, and ask her a question like 
that ! " 

" That's nothing," said Caper ; " a little experience has 
taught me that the higher you fly, in England, the nearer you 
approach true politeness and courtesy. Believe me, I should 
never have asked that question of any Englishwoman whose 
social position did not assure me she was cosmopolitan." 

" Come," said Bagswell, ^^ come ; after such an adventure, 
if there is one drop of anything fit to drink in this town, we'll 
all go and get lushy." 

They went. They found a door over which hung a green 
branch. Good wine needs no bush, therefore Itahan wine- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 77 

shops hang it out ; for the wine there is not over good. But 
as luck was with our three artists, in the shop over the door of 
which hung the green bough, thej found that the padrone was 
an old acquaintance of Kocjean ; he had married, and moved 
to Grotto Ferrata. He had a barrel of Frascati wine, which 
was bright, sparkling, sweet, and not watered. This the pa- 
drone tapped in honor of his guests, and, at their urgent re- 
quest, sat down and helped empty a couple of bottles. More- 
over, he told them that as the town was over-crowded, thej 
would find it difficult to get a good dinner, unless they would 
come and dine with him, 'at his private table, and be his 
guests ; which invitation Eocjean accepted, to the tavern- 
keeper's great joy, promising to be back at the appointed 
time. 

Our trio then sauntered forth to see the fair. Wandering 
among the crowded booths, they came suddenly on a collection 
of Zingare^ looking like their Spanish cousins, the Gitanas. 
Wild black eyes, coarse black locks of hair, brown as Indians, 
small hands, small feet — the Gipsies, children of the storm — 
my Eommani pals, what are you doing here ? Only one 
woman among them was noticeable. Her face was startlingly 
handsome, with an aquiline nose, thin nostrils, beautifully- 
arched eyebrows, and eyes like an eagle. She was tall, 
straight, with exquisitely rounded figure, and the full drapery 
of white around her bosom fell from the shoulders in large 
hanging sleeves ; over her head was thrown a crimson and 
green shawl, folded like the pane of the ciociare^ and setting 
off her raven-black hair and rich red and swarthy complexion. 

Eocjean stood entranced, and Caper, noticing his rapt air, 
forbore breaking silence ; while the gipsy, who knew that she 



Y8 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

was the admiration of the forestieriy stood immovable as a 
statue, looking steadily at them, without changing a fea- 
ture. 

^^ Piu lellissima die la madonna I ^^ said Eocjean, loud 
enough for her to hear. Then turning to Caper, " Let's andi- 
ammo " (travel), said he ; " that woman's face will haunt me 
for a month. I've seen it before ; yes, seen her shut up in the 
Vatican, immortal on an old Etruscan vase. Egypt, Etruria, 
the Saracen hordes who once overrun all this Southern Italy, I 
find, every hour, among live people, some trace of you all ; 
but of the old Roman, nothing ! " 

"You find the old Roman cropping out in these church 
processions, festivals, shrines, and superstitions, don't you?'^ 
asked Caper. 

" No ! something of those who made the seal, nothing of 
the impression on the wax remains for me. Before Rome 
was, the great East was, and shall be. The Germans are 
right to call the East the Morning Land ; thence came light. 
. . . The longer you live along the wave-washed shore of 
the Mediterranean, the more you will see what a deep hold the 
East once had on the people of the coast. The Romans, after 
all, were only opulent tradesmen, who could buy luxuries with- 
out having the education to appreciate them. So utterly did 
they ignore the Etruscans, who made them what they were, 
that you seek in vain to find in Roman history anything but 
the barest outline of the origin of a people so graceful and 
refined, that the Roman citizen was a bootblack in comparison 
to one of them. The Saracens flashed light and life, in later 
days, once more into the Roman leaven. "What a dirty, filthy 
page the whole Gothic middle age is at best ! It Hes like a 



AMERICANS IK ROME. V9 

huge body struck with apoplexy, and only restored to its 
sensual life by the sharp lancet, bringing blood, of these same 
infidels, these stinging Saracens. Go into the mountains back 
of us, hunt up the costumes that still remain, and see where 
they all come from — the East. Look at the crescent earrings 
and graceful twisted gold-work, from — the East. All the com- 
monest household ware, the agricultural implements, the man- 
ner of cooking their food, and all that is picturesque in life and 
rehgion — all from the East." 

"Strikes me," quoth Caper, "that this question of food 
touches my weakest point ; therefore, let us go and dine, and 
continue the lecture at a more im-hungry period. But where 
is Bagswell ? " 

" He is seeking adventures, of course." 

" Oh ! yes, I see him, down there among the billy goats. 
Let's go and pick him up ; and then for mine host of the 
Green Bough." 

Having found Bagswell, our trio at once marched to the 
Green Bough, which they saw was filled to overflowing with 
country people, eating and drinking, sitting on rough benches, 
and stowing away food and wine as if in expectation of being 
very soon shipwrecked on a desert island, where there would 
be nothing but hard-shell clams and lemons to eat. The land- 
lord at once took the trio up stairs, where, at a large table, 
were half a dozen of his friends, all of the cleanly order of 
country people, stout, and having a well-to-do look that depre- 
cated anything like famine. A young lady of twenty and two 
hundred, as Caper summed up her age and weight, was evi- 
dently the cynosure of all eyes ; two other good-natured 
women, of a few more years and a very little less weight, and 



80 AMERICANS IN KO ME. 

three men, made up the table. Any amount of compHments, 
as usual, passed between the first six and the last three comers, 
prefacing everything with desires that they would act without 
ceremony. But Caper and Kocjean were on a high horse, and 
they fairly pumped the spring of Italian compliments so dry, 
that Bagswell could only make a squeaking noise when he 
tried the handle. This verbifuge of our three artists put their 
host into an ecstasy of dehght, and he circulated all round, 
rubbing his hands, and telling his six friends that his three 
friends were milordi, in very audible whispers, milordi of the 
most genial, courtly, polite, complimentary, cosmopolitan, and 
exquisite description. 

After all this, down sat our trio ; and for the sake of future 
ages which will live on steam bread, electrical beef, and mag- 
netic fish, let us give them the bill of fare set before them : 

All the wine they could drink. 

Maccaroni (fettucia) a la Milanese — dish two feet in diam- 
eter, one foot and a half high. 

Mutton chops, with tomato sauce {porno d'oro). 

Stewed celery, with Parmesan cheese. 

Stewed chickens. 

Mutton chops, bird fashion {Uccelli di Castrato. They 
are made of pieces of mutton rolled into a shape like a bird, 
and cooked, several at a time, on a wooden spit. They are 
the kilaubs of the East.) 

Baked pie of cocks' combs and giblets. 

Eoasted pig, a twelve-pounder. 

Roast squashes, stuffed with minced veal. 

Apples, oranges, figs, and finocchio. ' 

Crostata di visciola^ or wild-cherry pie, served on an iron 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 81 

plate the size of a Roman warrior's shield ; the dish evidently 
having been one formerly. 

More wine ! 

The stout young lady rejoicing in the name of Angeluccia, 
or large angel, was fascinated by Eocjean's conversational 
powers and Caper's attentions. The rest of the company, per- 
fectly at ease on finding out that the milordi were not French 
— Eocjean turning American to better please them — and that 
they were moreover full of fun, talked and laughed as if they 
were brother ItaHans. A jolher dinner Caper acknowledged 
he had never known. One of the ItaHans was farmer-general 
for one of the Eoman princes. He was a man of broad views, 
and, having travelled to Paris and London, came home with 
ultra-liberal sentiments, and, to Bagswell's astonishment, spoke 
his mind so clearly on the Eoman rulers, that our Englishman's 
eyes were slightly opened at the by no means complimentary 
expressions used toward the wireworkers of the Papal Gov- 
ernment. One Italy, and Eome its capital, was the only 
platform our princely farmer would take, and he was will- 
ing to stake his fortune — a cool one hundred thousand scudi — 
on regenerated Italy. 

Conversation then fell on "the fair ; and one of the ItaHans 
told several stories which were broad enough to have shoved 
the generality of EngHsh and American ladies out of the win- 
dow of the room. But Angeluccia and the two wives of the 
stout gentlemen never winked ; they had probably been to con- 
fession that morning, had cleared out their old sins, and were 
now ready to take in a new cargo. In a little while Eocjean 
sent the waiter out to a cafe, and he soon returned with coffee 
for the party ; upon which Caper, who had the day before 
4* 



82 AMERICANS IN BOME. 

bought some Havana cigars of the man in the Twelve Apos* 
ties, in the Piazza Dodici Apostoh, where there is a govern- 
ment cigar store for the sale of them, passed them around, and 
they were thoroughly appreciated by the diners. The farmer- 
general gave our three artists a hearty invitation to visit him, 
promising them all the horses they could ride, all the wine they 
could drink, and all the maccaroni they could eat. The last 
clause was inserted for Eocjean^s benefit, who had played a 
noble game with the grand dish they had had for dinner, and 
at which Angelucia had made great fun, assuring Rocjean he 
was Italian to the heart, e piu hasso. 

Then came good-by, and our artists were off — slowly, 
meditatively, and extremely happy, but, so far, quite steady. 
They walked to the castellated monastery of San Basilio, 
where, in the chapel of Saint Nilus, they saw the celebrated 
frescoes of Domenichino, and gazed at them tranquilly, and not 
quite so appreciatingly as they would have done before dinner. 
Then they came out from the gloom and the air heavy with 
the incense of the chapel, to the bright light and lively scenes 
of the fair, with renewed pleasure. They noticed that every 
one wore in the hat or in the lappel of the coat, if men — in 
their hair or in their bosom, if women — artificial roses ; and 
presently coming to a stand where such flowers were for sale, 
our trio bought half-a-dozen each, and then turned to where the 
crowd was thickest and the noise greatest. Three or four don- 
keys loaded with tinware were standing near the crowd, when 
one of them, ambitious of distinction, began clambering over 
the tops of the others in an insane attempt to get at some 
greens, temptingly displayed before him. Rattle, bang I right 
and left, went the tins, and in rushed men and women with 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 83 

cudgels ; but donkej was not to be stopped, and for four or 
five minutes the whole fair seemed gathered around the scene, 
cheering and laughing, with a spirit that set Caper wild with 
excitement, and induced him to work his way through the 
crowd, and present one old woman, who had finally conquered 
the donkey, with two large roses ; an action which was enthu- 
siastically applauded by the entire assembly. 

" Bravo ! bravo ! well done, O Englishman i " went up the 
shout. 

A little farther on they came to a large travelling van, one 
end of which was arranged as a platform in the open air. 
Here a female dentist, in a sea-green dress, with her sleeves 
rolled up, and a gold bracelet on her right arm, held in both 
hands a tooth extractor, bound round with a white handker- 
chief — ^to keep her steady, as Caper explained, while she pulled 
a tooth from the head of a young man who was down in front 
of her on his knees. Her assistant, a good-looking young man, 
in very white teeth and livery, sold some patent toothache 
drops: Solo cinque haiocchi il fiasco^ S^ gnore. 

Caper, having seen the tooth extracted, cried, ^^ Bravis- 
sima I " as if he had been at the opera, and threw some roses 
at the prima donna dentista^ who acknowledged the applause 
with a bow, and requested the Signore to step up and let her 
draw him out. This he dechned, pleading the fact that he had 
sound teeth. The dentista congratulated him, in spite of his teeth. 

** But come !" said Bagswell ; " look at that group of men 
and women in Albano costume ; there is a chance to make a 
deuced good sketch." 

Two men and three women were seated in a circle ; they 
were laughing and talking, and cutting and eating large slices 



84 AMEEICANSINROME. 

of raw ham and bread, while they passed from one to another 
a three-gallon keg of wine, and drank out of the bung. As 
one of the hearty, laughing, jolly, brown-eyed girls lifted up 
the keg, Caper pulled out sketch book and pencil to catch an 
outline sketch — of her head thrown back, her fine full throat 
and breast heaving as the red wine ran out of the barrel, and 
the half-closed, dreamy eyes, and pleasure in the face — as the 
wine slowly trickled down her throat. One of the men noted 
the artist making a ntrattOj and laughing heartily, cried out : 
" Oh ! but you'll have to pay us well for taking our portraits ! " 
. . . And the girl, slowly finishing her long draught^ looked 
merrily round, shook her finger at the artist, laughed, and — the 
sketch was finished. Then Caper, taking Eocj can's roses, went 
laughingly up to the girl with brown eyes and fine throat, in 
Albano costume, and begged that she would take the poor 
flowers, and, putting them next her heart, keep them where 
it is forever warm — " as the young man on your left knows 
very well ! " he concluded. This speech was received amid 
loud applause and cheers, and thanks for the roses, and an 
invitation to take a pull at the barrel. Caper waved them 
Adio ; and as our trio turned Rome-ward from the fair, the last 
things he saw as he turned his head to take a farewell look, 
were the roses that the Italian girl had placed next her heart. 

The exceedingly interesting amusement known as the Tom- 
bola, is nothing more than the game of Loto, or LottOj " Brob- 
dignagified," and played in the open air of the Papal States, in 
Rome on Sundays — and in the Campagna on certain saints' 
days, come they when they may. 

The English have made holiday from holy day, and call the 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 



85 



Lord's day Sunday ; while the Itahans call Sunday Lord's 
day, or Domenica. Their way of keeping it holy, however, 
with tombolas, horse races, and fireworks, strikes a heretic, to 
say the least, oddly. 

The Roman tombola should be seen in the Piazza Navona 
democratically ; in the Villa Borghese, if not aristocratically, 
at least middle-class-ically, or bourgeois-istically. 

In the month of November, when the Enghsh drown them- 
selves, and the Itahans sit in the sun and smile, our friend 
Caper, one Sunday morning, putting his watch and purse where 
pickpockets could not reach them^ walked with two or three 
friends down to the Piazza Navona, stopping, as he went along, 
at the entrance of a small street leading into it, to purchase a 
tombola ticket. The ticket-seller, seated behind a small table, 
a blank book, and piles of blank tickets, charged eleven laiocchi 
(cents) for a ticket, including one haioccho for registering it. 
We give below a copy of Caper's ticket : 



No. lY d'Ordine, Lettera C. 


Cartella da Ritenersi Dal Giuocatore. 


8 


12 


32 


SI 


60 


20 


4 


1Q 


30 


11 


45 


3 


90 


55 


63 



The numbers on this ticket the registrar filled up, after 
which it was his duty to copy them in his book, and thus verify 
thQ ticket should it draw a prize. 



86 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

The total amount to be played for that day, the tombola 
being for the benefit of the Cholera Orphans, was one thousand 
scudi^ and was divided as follows ; 

Terno, . . . . . . . $50 

Quaterno, 100 

Cinquina, ..... 200 

Tombola, 650 

$1,000 

How many tickets were issued, Caper was never able to 
find out ; but he was told that for a one-thousand-doUar tom- 
bola the number was limited to ninety thousand. 

The tickets, as will be seen above, are divided into three 
lines, with five divisions in each hne, and you can fill up the 
fifteen divisions with any numbers, running from one to ninety, 
that you may see fit. Ninety tickets, with numbers from one 
to ninety, are put in a revolving glass barrel, and after being 
well shaken up, some one draws out one number at random 
(the slips of paper being rolled up in such a manner that the 
numbers on them cannot be seen). It is passed to the judges, 
and is then read aloud, and exposed to view, in conspicuous 
figures, on a stand or stands ; and so on until the tombola is 
won or the numbers all drawn. 

Whoever has three consecutive figures on a line, beginning 
from left hand to right, wins the Terno; if four consecutive 
figures, the Quaterno; if five figures, or a full line, the Cm- 
quina ; and whoever has all fifteen figures, wins the tombola. 
It often happens that several persons win the Terno^ &c., at the 
same time, in which case the amount of the Terno, &c., is 
equally divided among them. These public tombolas are like 



AMERICANS IX ROME. 87 

too many thimble-rig tables, ostensibly started for charitable 
objects, and it is popularly whispered that the Roman nobility 
and heads of the Church purchase vast numbers of these tick- 
ets, and never fill them up ; but then again, they are not large 
enough for shaving, and are too small for curl papers ; besides, 
six hundred and fifty scudi I "Whew ! 

The Piazza Navona, bearing on its face, on week-days, the 
most terrible eruptions of piles of old iron, rags, paintings, 
books, boots, vegetables, crockery, jackdaws, contadmZj and 
occasional dead cats ; wore, on the Sunday of the tombola — it 
was Advent Sunday — a clean, bright, and even joyful look. 
From many windows hung gay cloths and banners ; the three 
fountains were making Roman pearls and diamonds of the first 
water ; the entire length (seven hundred and fifty feet) and 
breadth of the square was filled with the Roman people ; three 
bands of military music played uncensurable airs, since the 
public censor permitted them ; and several companies of sol- 
diers, with loaded guns, stood all ready to slaughter the jolehs. 
It was a sublime spectacle. 

But the curtain rose ; that is to say, the tombola com- 
menced. At a raised platform, a small boy, dressed in black, 
popularly supposed to be a cholera orphan, rolled back his 
shirt cuffs — he had a shirt — plunged his hand into the glass 
barrel, and produced a slip of paper ; an assistant carried it to 
the judges — one resembled Mr. Pecksniff — and then the crier 
announced the number, and — presto ! — on a large blackboard 
the number appeared, so that every one could see it. 

Caper found the number on his ticket, and was marking it. 
off, when a countryman at his side asked him if he would see if 
the number was on his ticket, as he could not read figures. 



88 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Caper accordingly looked it over, and finding that it was there, 
marked it off for him. 

** Padrone mio^ thank you," said the man, evidently deter- 
mined, since he had found out a scholar, to keep close by him. 

*^ Seventeen ! " called out the tombola crier. 

" C — o ! " said the contadino^ with joy in his face ; " seven- 
teen is always my lucky number. My wife was seventeen 
years old when I married her. My donkey was killed by the 
railroad cars the other day, and he gave just seventeen groans 
before he died. I shall have luck to-day." 

"We refrain from writing the exclamation the contadino 
prefaced his remarks with, for fear the reader might have a 
good Italian dictionary — an article, by the way, the writer has 
never yet seen. Suffice it to say, that the exclamations made 
use of by the Romans, men and women, not only of the lower, 
but even the middling class, are of a nature exceedingly natu- 
ral, and plainly point to Bacchic and Phallic sources. The 
lestemmia of the Romans is viler than the blasphemy of 
English or Americans. 

It happened that the countryman had a seventeen on his 
ticket, and Caper marked it off, at the same time asking him 
how much he would take for his pantaloons. These pantaloons 
were made of a goafs skin ; the long white wool, inches in 
length, left on, and hanging down below the knees of the man, 
gave him a Pan-like look, and, with the word tombola, sug- 
gested the lines of that good old song — save the maledictory 
part of it : 

" Tombolin had no breeches to wear, 
So he bought him a goat's skin, to make him a pair." 

These breeches were not for sale ; they were evidently the 



AMERICANS IN EOME, 89 

joy and the pride of the countryman, who had no heart for 
trade, having by this time two numbers in one Hne marked off, 
only wanting an adjoining one to win the terno, 

" If you were to win the terno ^ what would you do with 
it ? " Caper asked him. 

^^Acctdentel I'd buy a barrel of wine, and a hog, and 

" Thirty-two ! " shouted the crier. 

"It's on your paper," said Caper to him, marking it off; 
" and you've won the terno ! " 

The eyes of the man gleamed wildly ; he crossed himself, 
grasped the paper, and the next thing Caper saw was the 
crowd dividing right and left, as the excited owner of the goat- 
skin breeches made his way to the platform. When he had 
climbed up, and, stepping forward, stood ready to receive the 
terno^ the crowd jeered and cheered the villano^ making fine fun 
of his goatskin, and not a little jealous that a contadino should 
take the money out of the city. 

" It's always so," said a fat man next to Caper ; " these 
villani take the bread out of our mouths ; but ecco I there is 
another man who has the terno ; blessed be the Madonna, there 
is a third ! Oh ! diavolo, the villano will only have one third 
of the terno ; and may he die of apoplexy ! " 

A vender of refreshments passing along, the fat man 
stopped him, and purchased a haioccho's worth of — what ? 

Pumpkin seeds ! These are extensively eaten in Rome, as 
well as the seeds of pine cones, acorns, and round yellow chick- 
peas ; they supply the place occupied by groundnuts in our 
more favored land. 

There is this excitement about the tombolas in the Piazza 



90 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

Navona, that occasionally a panic seizes the crowd, and, in the 
rush of people to escape from the square, some have their 
pockets picked, and some are trampled down, never to rise 
again. Fortunately for Caper, no stampede took place on 
Advent Sunday, so that he lived to attend another grand tom- 
bola in the Villa Borghese. 

This was held in the spring time, and the promise of the 
ascension of a balloon added to the attractions of the lottery. 
To enter the villa, you had to purchase a tombola ticket, 
whereas, in the Piazza Navona, this was unnecessary. At one 
end of the amphitheatre of the villa, under the shade of the 
ilex trees, a platform was erected, where the numbers were 
called out and the awards given. 

Caper, Rocjean, and another French artist, not of the 
French Academy, named Achille Legume, assisted at this 
entertainment. Legume was a very pleasant companion, 
lively, good natured, with a decided penchant for the pretty 
side of humanity, and continually haunted with the idea that a 
princess was to carry him off from his mistress in spectacles, 
Madame Art, and convey him to the land of Cocaigne, where 
they never make, only buy, paintings — of which articles, in 
parenthesis. Monsieur Achille had a number for sale. 

"Rocjean," said Legume, "do you notice that distinguished 
lady on the platform ; isn't she the Princess Faniente ? She 
certainly looked at me very peculiarly a few minutes since." 

" It is the princess," answered Rocjean ; " and I also no- 
ticed, a few minutes since, when I was on the other side of the 
circus, that she looked at me with an air." 

" Don't quarrel," spoke Caper; " she probably regards you 
both equally, for — she squints." 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 91 

This answer capsized Achille, who, having a small red 
rosebud in ]jis buttonhole, hoped that at a distance he might 
pass for a chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and had con- 
quered something, say something noble. 

A wandering cigar-seller, with zigarri sceltij next demanded 
their attention, and Eocjean commenced an inspection of the 
selected cigars, which are made by government, and sold at the 
fixed price of one and a half haiocchi each ; even at this low 
price, the stock of the tobacco factory paid thirteen per cent, 
under AntoneUi's direction. 

" Antonelli makes a pretty fair cigar,'^ said Eocjean ; " but 
I wish he would wrap the ends a little tighter. I'm sorry to 
hear he is going out of the business." 

^^Why, he would stay in," answered Caper, "but what 
with baking all the bread for Eome, and attending to all the 
firewood sold, and trying to make Ostia a seaport, and having 
to fight Monsieur About, and looking after his lotteries and big 
pawnbroker's shop, and balancing himself on the end of a very 
sharp French bayonet, his time is so occupied, he cannot roll 
these cigars so well as they ought to be rolled. . . . But 
they have called out number forty-nine ; you've got it. 
Legume ; I remember you wrote it down. Yes, there it is." 

" Forty-nine ! " 

" I wonder they dare call out '49 in this villa ; or have the 
people forgotten the revolution already — forgotten that this spot 
was made ready for a battle ground for liberty ? The public 
censor knows his business : give the Eomans bread, and the 
circus or tombola, they will be content — forever ! " 

^^Au diable with politics," interrupted Achille. ""What a 
very pretty girl that is alongside you, Caper. Look at her : 



92 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

how nicely that costume fits her, the red boddice especially ! 
Where, except in Italy^ do you ever see such fine black eyes, 
and such a splendid head of coal-black hair ? This way of 
having Itahan nurses dressed in the Albano costume is very 
fine. That little boy with her is English, certainly." 

" Och ! Master Jamey, come in out of that grane grass ; 
d'yiz want ter dirty the clane pinafore IVe put on yiz this blis- 
sed afthernoon ? " spoke the nurse. 

" In the name of all that^s awful, what kind of Italian is 
she speaking ? " asked Legume of Caper. 

" Irish-English," he answered ; " she is not the first woman 
out of Old Ireland masquerading as an Albanian nurse. She 
probably belongs to some English family who have preten- 
sions." 

" Ah, bah ! " said Legume ; " it*s monstrous — perfectly 
atrocious I ugh ! Let us make a little tour of a walk. The 
tombola is finished. An Irish dressed up as an Italian — exe- 
crable 1 " 



CHAPTER V. 

The Cafe Greco, like the belle of many seasons, lights up 
best at night. In morning, in deshahiUe, not all the venerabil- 
ity of its age can make it respectable. Caper declares that on 
a fresh, sparkling day, in the merry spring time, he once really 
enjoyed a very early breakfast there ; and that, with the win- 
dows of the Omnibus room open, the fresh air blowing in, and 
the sight of a pretty girl at the fourth-story window of a 
neighboring house, feeding a bird and tending a rosebush, the 
cafe was rose colored. 

This may be so ; but seven o'clock in the evening was the 
time when the Greco was in its prime. Then the front room 
was filled with Germans, the second room with Eussians and 
English, the third room — the Omnibus — ^with Americans, 
English, and French, and the fourth, or back room, was brown 
with Spaniards. The Italians were there, in one or two rooms, 
but in a minority ; only those who affected the English showed 
themselves, and aired their knowledge of the Anglo-Saxon 
tongue and habits. 

" I habituate myself," said a red-haired Italian of the Greco 
to Caper, " to the English customs. I myself lave with hot 
water from foot to head, one time in three weeks, like the Eng* 



94 AMERICANSIJSTROME. 

lish. It is an idea of the most superb, and they tell me I am 
truly English for so performing. I have not yet arrive to per- 
fection in the lessons of box, but I have a smart cove of a 
booldog." 

Caper told him that his resemblance to an EngUsh " gent " 
was perfect, at which the Italian, ignorant of the meaning of 
that fearful word, smiled assent. 

The waiter has hardly brought you your small cup of cafft 
nero^ and you are preparing to light a cigar, to smoke while 
you drink your coffee, when there comes before you a wander- 
ing bouquet-seller. It is, perhaps, the dead of winter ; long 
icicles are hanging from fountains, over which hang frosted 
oranges, frozen myrtles, and frost-nipped olives. Alas ! such 
things are seen in Rome ; and yet, for a dime, you are offered 
a bouquet of camellia japonicas. By the way, the name 
camellia is derived from Camellas, a learned Jesuit ; probably 
La Dame aux Cdmelias had not a similar origin. You don^t 
want the flowers. 

"Signore," says the man, *' behold a ruined flower-mer- 
chant ! " 

You are unmoved. Have you not seen or heard of, many 
a time, the heaviest kind of flour merchants ruined by too 
heavy speculations, burst up so high the crows couldn't fly to 
them ; and heard this without changing a muscle of your 
face? 

" But, signore, do buy a bouquet to please your lady." 

'' Haven't one." 

^^Altro ! " answers the man, triumphantly, " whom did I 
see the other day, with these eyes (pointing at his own), in a 
magnificent carriage, beside the most beautiful Donna Inglesa 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 95 

in Rome ? Iddio giusto / ' V . . . At this period, he sees 
he has made a ten strike, and at once follows it up by knock- 
ing down the tenpin boj, so as to clear the alley, thus : " For 
her sake, signore." 

You pay a paul (and give the bouquet to — your landlady's 
daughter), while the departing mercante di fiori assures you 
that he never, no, never expects to make a fortune at flowers; 
but if he gains enough to pay for his wine, he will be very 
tipsy as long as he lives ! 

Then comes an old man, with a chess board of inlaid stone, 
which he hasn t an idea of selling ; but finds it excellent to 
"move on," without being checkmated as a beggar without 
visible means of s'port. The first time he brought it round, 
and held it out square to Caper, that cool young man, taking a 
handful of coppers from his pocket, arranged them as checkers 
on the board, without taking any notice of the man ; and, after 
he had placed them, began playing deliberately. He rested 
his chin on his hand, and, with knitted brows, studied several 
intricate moves ; he finally jumped the men, so as t^ leave a 
copper or two on the board ; and bidding the old man good 
night, continued a conversation with Eocjean, commenced pre- 
vious to his game of draughts. 

Next approaches a hardware merchant, for, in Imperial 
Rome, the peddler of a colder clime is a merchant, the shoe- 
maker an artist, the artist a professor. The hardware man 
looks as if he might be *' touter " to a broken-down brigand. 
All the razors in his box couldn't keep the small part of his 
face that is shaved from wearing a look as if it had been blown 
up with gunpowder, while the grains had remained embedded 
there. He tempts you with a wicked-looking knife, the pat- 



96 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

tern for which must have come from the lituus of Etruria, the 
land called the mother of superstitions^ and have been wielded 
for auguries amid the howls and groans of lucomones and 
priests. He tells you it is a Campagna knife, and that you 
must have one if you go into that benighted region ; he says 
this with a mysterious shake of his head, as if he had known 
Fra Diavolo in his childhood, and Fra 'Tonelli in his riper 
years. The crescent-shaped handle is of black bone; the 
pointed blade long and tapering ; the three notches in its back 
catch into the spring with a noise like the alarum of a rattle- 
snake. You conclude to buy one — for a curiosity. You ask 
why the blade at the point finishes off in a circle ? He tells 
you the government forbids the sale of sharp-pointed knives ; 
hut^ signore, if you wish to use it^ break off the circle under 
your heel, and you have a point sharp enough to make any 
man have an accidente di freddo (death from cold — steel). 

Victor Hugo might have taken his character of Quasimodo 
from the wild figure who now enters the Greco, with a pair of 
horns foif sale ; each horn is nearly a yard in length, black and 
white in color; they have been polished by the hunchback 
until they shine like glass. Now he approaches you, and with 
deep, rough voice, reminding you of the lowing of the large 
gray oxen they once belonged to, begs you to buy them. 
Then he facetiously raises one to each side of his head, and 
you have a figure that Jerome Bosch would have rejoiced to 
transfer to canvas. His portrait has been painted by more 
than one artist. 

Caper, sitting in the Omnibus one evening with Eocjean, 
was accosted by a very seedy-looking man, with a very pecu- 
liar expression of face, wherein an awful struggle of humor to 



AMERICANS IN EO ME. 97 

crowd down pinching poverty gleamed brightly. He offered 
for sale an odd volume of one of the early fathers of the 
Church. Its probable value was a dime, whereas he wanted 
two dollars for it. 

" Why do you ask such a price ? " asked Eocjean ; " you 
never can expect to sell it for a twentieth part of that." 

" The moral of which," said the seedy man, no longer con- 
taining the struggling humor, but letting it out with a hearty 
laugh, " the moral of which is — give me half a haiocclio ! " 

Ever after that, Caper never saw the man, who henceforth 
went by the name of La Morale e un Mezzo Baioccho ! without 
pointing the moral with a copper coin. Not content with this, 
he once took him round to the Lepre restaurant, and ordered a 
right good supper for him. Several other artists were with 
him, and all declared that no one could do better justice to food 
and wine. After he had eaten all he could hold, and drank a 
little more than he could carry, he arose from the table, having 
during the entire meal sensibly kept silence, and, wiping his 
mouth on his coat sleeve, spoke : 

" The moral, this evening, signori, I shall carry home in my 
stomach." 

As he was going out of the restaurant, one of the artists 
asked him why he left two rolls of bread on the table ; saying 
they were paid for, and belonged to him. 

"I left them," said he, "out of regard for the correct usages 
of society ; but, having shown this, I return to pocket them." 

This he did at once, and Caper stood astonished at the 
seedy beggar's phraseology. 

In addition to these characters, wandering musicians find 
their way into the cafe, jugglers, peddlers of Koman mosaics 
5 



98 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

and jewelry, plaster casts and sponges, perfumery and paint 
brushes. Or a peripatetic shoemaker, with one pair of shoes, 
which he recklessly offers for sale to giant or dwarf. One 
morning he found a purchaser — a French artist — ^who put them 
on, and threw away his old shoes. Fatal mistake. Two hours 
afterward, the buyer was back in the Greco, with both big toes 
sticking out of the ends of his new shoes, looking for that 
cochon of a shoemaker. 

To those who read men like books, the Greco offers a valu- 
able circulating library. The advantage, too, of these artistical 
works is, that one needs not be a Mezzofanti to read the Rus- 
sian, Spanish, German, French, Italian, English, and other 
faces that pass before one panoramically. There sits a relation 
of a hospodar, drinking Russian tea ; he pours into a large cup 
a small glass of brandy, throws in a slice of lemon, fills up 
with hot tea. Do you think of the miles he has travelled, in a 
telega^ over snow-covered steppes, and the smoking samovar of 
tea that awaited him, his journey for the day ended ? Had he 
lived when painting and sculpture were in their ripe prime, 
what a fiery life he would have thrown into his works I As it 
is, he drinks cognac, hunts wild boars in the Pontine marshes 
— and paints Samson and Delilah, after models. 

The Spanish artist, over a cup of chocolate, has lovely 
dreams, of burnt umber hue, and despises the neglected 
treasures left him by the Moors, while he seeks gold in — 
castles in the air. 

The German, with feet in Italy and head far away in the 
Fatherland, frequents the German club in preference to the 
Greco ; for at the club is there not lager beer ? ... In 
Imperial Rome, there are lager-beer breweries I He has the 



AMEBICANSINROME, 99 

profundities of the aesthetical in art at his finger ends ; it is 
deep-sea fishing, and he occasionally lands a whale, as Kaul- 
bach has done ; or very nearly catches a mermaid with Corne- 
lius. Let us respect the man — he works. 

The French artist, over a cup of black cofiee, with perhaps 
a small glass of cognac, is the lightning to the German thun- 
der. If he were asked to paint the portrait of a potato, he 
would make eyes about it, and then give you a little picture fit 
to adorn a boudoir. He does everything with a flourish. If 
he has never painted Nero performing that celebrated violin 
solo over Eome, it is because he despaired of conveying an 
idea of the tremulous flourish of the fiddle bow. He reads 
Nature, and translates her, without understanding her. He 
will prove to you that the cattle of Rosa Bonheur are those of 
the fields, while he will object to Landseer that his beasts are 
those of the guinea cattle-show. He blows up grand facts in 
the science of art with gunpowder, while the English dig them 
out with a shovel, and the Germans bore for them. He finds 
Raphael, king of pastel artists, and never mentions his discov- 
ery to the English. He is more dangerous with the fleurette^ 
than many a trooper with broadsword. Everything that he 
appropriates, he stamps with the character of his own national- 
ity. The English race-horse at Chantilly has an air of curl 
papers about his mane and tail. 

The Italian artist — the night season is for sleep. 

The English artist — ^liearken to Ruskin on Turner ! When 
one has hit the bulFs eye, there is nothing left but to lay down 
the gun, and go and have — a whitebait dinner. 

The American artist — there is danger of the youthful giant 
kicking out the end of the Cradle of Art, and " scatterlophis- 
ticating rampageously " over all the nursery. 



100 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

*' I'd jest give a hun-dred dol-lars tomorrow, ef I could find 
out a way to cut stat-tures by steam," said Chapin, the sculptor. 

*' I can't see why a country with great rivers, great moun- 
tains, and great institutions generally, cannot produce great 
sculptors and painters," said Caper, sharply, one day to Eoc- 
jean. 

*' It is this very greatness," answered Rocjean, " that pre- 
vents it. The aim of the people runs not in the narrow 
channel of a mountain stream, but with the broad tide of the 
ocean. In the hands of Providence, other lands in other times 
have taken up painting and sculpture with their whole might, 
and have wielded them to advance civilization. They have 
played — are playing their part, these civilizers ; but they are 
no longer chief actors, least of all in America. Painting and 
sculpture may take the character of subjects there ; but their 
role as king is — played out." 

^' Much as you know about it," answered Gaper, *^ you are 
all theory ! " 

"That may be," quoth Rocjean; "you know what ©EOS 
means in Greek, don't you ? " 

There came to Rome, in the autumn, along with the other 
travellers, a caravan of wild beasts, ostensibly under charge of 
Monsieur Charles, the celebrated Tamer, rendered illustrious 
and illustrated by Nadar and Gustave Dore, in the Journal 
pour Rire. They were exhibited under a canvas tent in the 
Piazza Popolo, and a very cold time they had of it during the 
winter. Evidently, Monsieur Charles believed the climate of 
Italy belonged to the temperance society of climates. He 
erred, and suffered with his " superhe et manufique ELLLLLE^ 



AMERICANS IN EOME. 101 

PHANT ! " " And when we reflec*, ladies and gentlemen, 
that there are persons, forty and even fifty years old, who have 
never seen the EllUephant ! I ! . . . and who dare to 
SAY so ! ! ! . . ." Monsieur Charles made his explanations 
with teeth chattering. 

Caper, anxious to make a sketch of a very fine Bengal 
tiger in the collection, easily purchased permission to make 
studies of the animals during the hours when the exhibition 
was closed to the pubHc ; and as he went at everything vigor- 
ously, he was before long in possession of several fine sketches 
of the tiger, and other beasts, besides several secrets only 
known to the initiated, who act as keepers. 

The royal Bengal tiger was one of the finest beasts Caper 
had ever seen ; and what he particularly admired, was the jet- 
black lustre of the stripes on his tawny sides, and the vivid 
lustre of his eyes. The lion curiously seemed laboring under 
a heavy sleep at the very time when he should have been 
awake ; but then his mane was kept in admirable order. The 
hair round his face stood out hke the bristles of a shoe brush, 
and there was a curl in the knob of hair at the end of his tail 
that amply compensated for his inactivity. The hyenas looked 
sleek and happy, and their teeth were remarkably white ; but 
the elephant was the constant wonder of all beholders. In- 
stead of the tawny, blue-gray color of most of his species, he 
was black, and glistened like a patent-leather boot ; while his 
tusks were as white as — ivory ; yea, more so. 

"I don't understand what makes your animals look so 
bright," said Caper, one day, to one of the keepers. 

"Come here to-morrow morning early, when we make 
their toilettes, and you'll see," replied the man, laughing. 



102 AMEEICANS IN ROME. 

^' Why, there's that old hog of a Hon, he's as savage and snap- 
tious, before he has his medicme, as a corporal ; and looks as 
old as Methusaleh, until we arrange his beard, and get him up 
for the day. As for the Ellllephant . . . ugh ! " 

Caper's curiosity was aroused, and the next morning, early, 
he was in the menagerie. The first sight that struck his eye 
was the elephant, keeled over on one side, and weaving his 
trunk about, evidently as a signal of distress ; while his keeper 
and another man were— blacking pot and shoe brushes in hand 
— going all over him from stem to stern. 

" Good day," said the keeper to him ; '' here's a pair of 
boots for you ! put outside the door to be blacked every morn- 
ing, for five francs a day. It's the dearest job I ever under- 
took . . . and the boots are ungrateful ! Here, Pierre," 
he continued to the man who helped him, '' he shines enough ; 
take away the breshes, and bring me the sand paper, to rub up 
his tusks. Talk about polished beasts 1 I believe, myself, 
that we beat all other shows to pieces on this 'ere point. 
Some beasts are more knowing than others ; for example, them 
monkeys in that cage there. Give that big fool of a sliim- 
panzy that bresh, Pierre, and let the gen'leman see him operate 
on totlier monkeys." 

Pierre gave the large monkey a brush, and, to Caper's 
astonishment, he saw the animal seize it with one paw, then, 
springing forward, catch a small monkey with the other paw, 
and, holding him down, in spite of his struggles, administer so 
complete a brushing over his entire body, that every hair re- 
ceived -a touch. The other monkeys in the cage were in the 
wildest state of excitement, evidently knowing from experi- 
ence that they would all have to pass under the large one's 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 103 

hands ; and when he had given a final polish to the small one, 
he commenced a vigorous chase for his mate, an aged female, 
who, evidently disliking the ordeal, commenced a series of 
ground and lofty tumblings that would have made the fortune 
of even the distinguished — Leotard. In vain : after a pro- 
longed chase, in which the inhabitants of the cage flew round 
so fast that it appeared to be full of flying legs, tails, and fur, 
the large monkey seized the female, and, regardless of her 
attempts to liberate herself, he brushed her from head to foot, 
to the great delight of a Swiss soldier, an infantry corporal, 
who had entered the menagerie a few minutes before the grand 
hunt commenced. 

"ifa '^;o^/" said the Swiss, pronouncing French with a 
broad German accent ; ^' it would keef me krate bleshur to 
have dat pig monkey in my gombany. He would mak' virst 
rait brivate." 

The keeper, who was still polishing away with sand paper 
at the elephant's tusks, and who evidently regarded the soldier 
with great contempt, said to him : 

'' He would have been there long since — only he knows too 
much." 

^^ Ma vol! that's the reason you're draining him vor a 
•Yrench gavalry gombany. Veil, I likes dat." 

"Oh! no," said the keeper; "his principles an't going to 
allow him to enter our army." 

" Yell, what are his brincibles ? " 

" To serve those who pay best ! " quoth the Frenchman, 
who, in the firm faith that he had said a good thing, called 
Pierre to help him adorn the hon, and turned his back on the 
Swiss, who, in revenge, amused himself feeding the monkeys 



104 AMERICANS IN HOME. 

with an old button, a stump of a cigar, and various wads of 
paper. 

The keeper then gave the lion a narcotic, and, after this 
medicine, combed out his mane and tail, waxed his moustache, 
and thus made his toilette for the daj. The tiger and leopards 
had their stripes and spots touched up once a week with hair 
dye, and as this was not the day appointed, Caper missed this 
part of the exhibition. The hyenas submitted to be brushed 
down ; but showed strong symptoms of mutiny at having their 
teeth rubbed with a tooth brush, and their nails pared. 

In half an hour more, the keeper's labors were over, and 
Caper, giving him a present for his inviting him to assist as 
spectator at la toilette hien hete, or beastly dressing, walked off 
to breakfast, evidently thinking that Art was not dead in that 
menagerie, whatever Eocjean might say of its state of health 
in the world at large. 

"To think," soliloquized Caper, "to think of what a boot- 
less thing it is, to shoe-black o'er an elephant ! " 

The traveller visiting Eome notices in the Piazza di 
Spagna, along the Spanish steps, and in the Condotti, Fratina, 
and Sistina streets, either sunning themselves or slowly saun- 
tering along, many picturesquely-dressed men, women, and 
children, who, as he soon learns, are the professional models of 
the artists. For a fee of from fifty cents to a dollar, they will 
give their professional services for a sitting four hours in 
length ; and those of them who are most in demand find little 
difficulty, during the " business season," say from the months 
of November to May, in earning from one and a half to two 
dollars, and even more, every day. Many of them, living fru- 



AMERICANS IN EOME. 105 

gaily, manage to make what is considered a fortune among the 
contadini in a few years ; and Hawks, the English artist, who 
spent a summer at Saracenesca, found, to his astonishment, that 
one of the leading men of the town, one who loaned money at 
very large interest, owned property, and who was numbered 
among the heavy wealthy, was no other than a certain Gae- 
tano he had more than once used as model, at the price of 
fifty cents a sitting. 

The government prohibiting female models from posing 
nude in the different life schools, it consequently follows that 
they pose in private studios, as they choose. This interdiction 
does not extend to the male models ; and when Caper was in 
Rome, he had full opportunities offered him to draw from these 
in the English Academy, and in the private schools of Gigi 
and Giacinti. Supported by the British Government, the 
English artist has, free of all expense, at this truly National 
Academy, opportunities to sketch from life, as well as from 
casts, and has, moreover, access to a well-chosen library of 
books. With a generosity worthy of all praise, American 
artists are admitted to the English Academy, with full permis- 
sion to share with Englishmen the advantages of the life 
school, free of all cost ; a piece of liberality that well might be 
copied by the French Academy, without at all derogating from 
its high position — on the Pincian Hill. 

If Gigi's school is still kept up (it was in a small street 
near the Trevi fountain), we would advise the traveller in 
search of the picturesque by all means to visit it, particularly 
if it is in the same location it was when Caper was there. It 
was over a stable, in the second story of a tumbledown old 
house, frequented by dogs, cats, fleas, and rats ; in a room say 
5^' 



lOQ AMERICANS IN ROME. 

fifty feet long hj twenty wide. A semicircle of desks and 
wooden benches went round the platform, where stood the 
male models nude, or, on other evenings, male and female 
models in costumes, Koman or Neapolitan. Oil lamps gave 
enough light to enable the artists who generally attended there 
to draw, and color, in oils or water colors, the costumes. The 
price of admittance for the costume class was one ^aul (ten 
cents), and as the model only posed about two hours, the artists 
had to work very fast to get even a rough sketch finished in 
that short time. Americans, Danes, Germans, Spaniards, 
French, ItaKans, EngHsh, Russians, were numbered among the 
attendants, and, more than once, a sedate-looking EngHsh- 
woman or two would come in quietly, make a sketch, and go 
away unmolested, and almost unnoticed. * 

More than three quarters of the sketches made by Caper at 
Gigi^s costume class were taken from models in standing posi- 
tions. At the end of the first hour, they had from ten to fif- 
teen minutes allowed them to rest ; but these minutes were 
seldom wasted by the artist, who improved them to finish the 
lines of his drawing, or dash in color. The powers of endur- 
ance of the female models were better than those of the men ; 
and they would strike a position and keep it for an hour, 
almost immovable. Noticeable among these women was one 
named Minacucci, who, though over seventy years old, had all 
the animation and spirit of one not half her age, and would 
keep her position with the steadiness of a statue. She had, in 
her younger days, been a model for Canova ; had outlived two 
generations ; and was now posing for a third. If you have 
ever seen many figure paintings executed in Rome, your 
chance is good to have seen Minacucci's portrait over and over 



AMBKICANS IN ROME. 107 

again. Caper affirms that of any painting made in Rome from 
the years 1856 to 1860, introducing an Itahan head, whether 
a Madonna or sausage seller, he can tell you the name of the 
model it was painted from nine times out of ten ! The fact is, 
they do want a new niodel for the Madonna badly in Eome ; 
for Giacinta is growing old and fat, and Stella, since she mar- 
ried that cobbler, has lost her angehc expression. The small 
boy who used to pose for angels has smoked himself too yellow, 
and the man who stood for Charity has gone out of business. 

" I have," said Caper to me the other day, *' too much re- 
spect for the pubKc to tell them who the man with red hair 
and beard used to pose for ; but he has taken to drinking, and 
it's all up with him." 

Spite of fleas, rats, squalling cats, dog fights, squealing of 
horses, and braying of donkeys, lamp smoke, and heat or cold, 
the hours passed by Caper in Gigi's old barracks were among 
the pleasantest of his Eoman life. There was such novelty, 
variety, and brilliancy in the costumes to be sketched, that 
every evening was a surprise ; save those nights when Stella 
posed, and these were known and looked forward to in ad- 
vance. She always insured a full class, and, when she first 
appeared, was the beauty of all the models. 

Caper was sitting one afternoon in Eocjean's studio, when 
there was a tap at the door. 

" Entrate I " shouted Eocjean, and in came a female model, 
called Eita. It was the month of May ; business was dull ; 
she wanted employment. Eocjean asked her to walk in, and 
rest herself. 

""Well, Eita, you haven't anything to do, now that the 
English have all fled from Eome before the malaria ? " 



108 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" Very little. Some of the Eussians are left up there in 
the Fratina ; but since the Signore Giovanni sold all his paint- 
ings to that rich Russian banker, diavolo I he has done nothing 
but drink champagne, and he don't want any more models." 

"What is the Signore Giovanni's last name?" asked 
Caper. 

"Who knows, Signore Giacomo ? I don't. We others 
{noi altri) never can pronounce your queer names, so we find 
out the Italian for your first name, and call you by that. Sig- 
nore Arturo, the French artist, told me once that the English 
and Eussians and Germans had such hard names, they often 
broke their front teeth out trying to speak them ; but he was 
joking. I knov/ the real, true reason for it.'^ 

" Come, let us have it," said Eocjean. 

" Accidente I I won't tell you ; you will be angry." 

"No, we won't," spoke Caper; "and what is more, I will 
give you two pauls if you will tell us. I am very curious to 
know this reason." 

" Bene^ now the prete came round to see me the other day ; 
it was when he purified the house with holy water ; and he 
asked me a great many questions, which I answered so art- 
lessly, yes, so artlessly ! whew ! [here Miss Eita smiled art- 
fully]. Then he asked me all about you heretics, and he told 
me you were all going to — be burned up, as soon as you died ; 
for the Inquisition couldn't do it for you in these degenerate 
days. After a great deal more twaddle like this, I asked him 
why you heretics all had such hard names, that we others 
never could speak them ? Then he looked mysterious — so 1 
[here Miss Eita diabolically winked one eye,] and said he, ^I 
will tell you, j96r Bacco I hush — it's because they are so abomi- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 109 

nablj wicked, never give anything to our Church, never have 
no holy water in their houses, never go to no confession, and 
are such monsters generally, that their pohce are all the time 
busy trying to catch them ; but their names are so hard to 
speak, that when the police go and ask for them, nobody knows 
them, and so they get off; otherwise, their country would have 
jails in it as large as St. Peter's, and they would be full all the 
time ! " 

^' H'm ! " said Eocjean ; ^^ I suppose you would be afraid to 
go to such horrible countries, among such people ? " 

"Not I," spoke Eita. "Didn't Ida go to Paris, and didn't 
she come back to Eome with such a magnificent silk dress, and 
gold watch, and such a bonnet ! all full of flowers, and lace, 
and ribbons ? Oh ! they don't eat ^ nothing but maccaroni ^ 
there ! And they don't have priests all the time sneaking 
round to keep a poor girl from earning a little money honestly, 
and haul her up before the police if her carta di soggiorno [per- 
mit to remain in Eome] runs out. I wish [here Eita stamped 
her foot, and her eyes flashed] Garibaldi would come here ! 
Then you would see these black crows flying, Iddio giusto I 
Then we would have no more of these arciprete making us pay 
them for every mouthful of bread we eat, or wine we drink, or 
wood we burn." 

"Why," said Caper, "they don't keep the baker shops, and 
wineshops, and woodyards, do they ? " 

"No," answered Eita, "but they speculate in them, and 
Fra 'Tonelli makes his cousins, and so on, inspectors ; and they 
regulate the prices to suit themselves, and make, oh ! such tre- 
men-du-ous fortunes. [Here Eita opened her eyes, and spread 
her hands, as if beholding the elephant.] Don't I remember, 



110 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

some time ago, how, when the Pope went out riding, he found 
both sides of the way, from the Vatican to San Angelo^ 
crowded with people on their knees, groaning, and calling to 
him. Said he to Fra Tonelli : 

" ^ "What are these poor people about ? ' 

" * Praying for your blessed holiness,' said he, while his 
eyes sparkled. 

*' * But,' said the Pope, ^ they are moaning and groaning.' 

"^It's a way the pollaccio have,' answered 'Tonelli, 
* when they pray.' 

" The Pope knew he was lying, so, when he went home to 
the Vatican, he sent for one of his faithful servants, and said he : 

^^ ' Santi, you run out and see what all this shindy is 
about.' 

" So Santi came back, and told him 'Tonelli had put up the 
price of bread, and the people were starving. So the Pope took 
out a big purse with a little money in it, and said he : 

" ^ Here, Santi, you go and buy me ten pounds of bread 
and get a bill for it, and have it receipted ! ' 

" So Santi came back with bread, and bill all receipted, 
and laid it down on a table, and threw a cloth over it. By 
and by, in comes 'Tonelli. Then the Pope says to him, kindly, 
and smiling : 

" ^I am confident I heard the people crying about bread to- 
day ; now, tell me truly, what is it selling for ? ' 

" Then 'Tonelli told him such a lie ! [Up went Rita's 
hands and eyes.] 

"Then the Pope says, while he looked so [knitting her 
brows] : 

" * Oblige me, if you please, by lifting up that cloth.' 



AMERICANS IN ROME. Ill 

"And'Tonellidid. 

" Bread went down six laiocchi next morning ! " 

" By the way, Eita," asked Eocjean, " where is your little 
brother, Beppo ? " 

" Oh ! he^s home," she answered ; " but I wish you would 
ask your friend Enrico, the German sculptor, if he won't have 
him again, for his model." 

" Why, I thought he was using him for his new statue ? " 

" He was ; but, oh ! so unfortunately, last Sunday, father 
went out to see his cousin John, who lives near Ponte Mole, 
and has a garden there, and Beppo went with him ; but the 
dear little fellow is so fond of fruit, that he ate a pint of raw 
horse-beans ! " 

" Of all the fruit ! " shouted Caper. 

*' S% signore^ it's splendid ; but it gave Beppo the colic 
next day, and when he went to Signore Enrico's studio to pose 
for Cupid, he twisted and wrenched around so with pain, that 
Signore Enrico told him he looked more like a little devil than 
a small love ; and when Beppo told him what fruit he had been 
eating, Signore Enrico bid him clear out for a savage that he 
was, and told him to go and learn to eat them boiled ! before 
he came back again." 

" I will speak to the Signore Enrico, and have him employ 
him again," said Eocjean. 

^' Oh ! I wish you would, for the Signore Enrico was very 
good to Beppo ; besides, his studio is a perfect palace for cigar 
stumps, which Beppo used to pick up and sell — that is, all 
those he and father didn't smoke in their pipes." 

"Make a sketch. Caper," said Eocjean, "of Cupid filling 
up his quiver with cigar stumps, while he holds one between 



112 AMEKICAKS IN ROME. 

his teeth. There's a model love for you ! Now, give Rita 
those two pauls you promised her, and let her go. Adio I " 

GIULIA DI SEGNI. 

{Lines found written on the back of a sketch in Caper's portfolio.) 

By Roman watch-tower, on the mountain top, 
We stood, at sunset, gazing like the eagles 
From their cloud-eyrie, o'er the broad Campagna, 
To the Albanian hills, which boldly rose, 
Bathed in a flood of red and pearly light. 
Far off, and fading in the coming night. 
Lay the Abruzzi, where the pale, white walls 
Of towns gleamed faintly on their purple sides. 

The evening air was tremulous with sounds — 
The thrilling chirp of insects, twittering birds, 
Barking of shepherds' fierce, white, Roman dogs ; 
While from the narrow path, far down below, 
We heard a mournful rondinella ring. 
Sung by a home-returning mountaineer. 

Then, as the daylight slowly climbed the hills, 
And the soft wind breathed music to their steps, 
O'er the old Roman watch-tower marched the stars, 
In their bright legions — conquerors of night- 
Shedding from silver armor shining light ; 
As once the Roman legions, ages past. 
Marched on to conquest o'er the Latin way. 
Gleaming, white stoned, so far beneath our gaze. 

GiULiA DI Segni, 'mid the Yolscians born. 
Streamed in thy veins that fiery, Roman blood, 
Curled thy proud lip, and fired thy eagle eyes. 
Faultless in beauty, as the noble forms 



AMERICANS IN KOME. 113 

Painted on rare Etrurian vase of old ; 

How life, ennobled by thy love, swept on, 

Serene, above the mean and pitiful ! 

Stars ! that still sparkle o'er old Segni's walls, 

Oh I mirror back to me one glance from eyes 

That yet may watch you from that Roman tower. 

Caper's uncle, from St. Louis, Mr. "William Browne, one 
day astonished several artists who were dining with him : 

" My young men," said he, " there is one thing pleases me 
very much about you all, and that is, you never mention the 
word Art ; don't seem to care anything more about the old 
masters, than I would about a lot of old wornout broomsticks ; 
and if I didn't know I was with artists in Rome, the crib — no, 
what d'ye call it ? '* 

*' The manger ? " suggested Eocjean. 

"Yes," continued Uncle Bill, "the manger of art — I 
should think I was among a lot of smart merchants, who had 
gone into the painting business determined to do a right good 
trade." 

" Cash on delivery," added Caper. 

•• Yes, be sure of that. Well, I like it ; I feel at home 
with you ; and as I always make it a point to encourage young 
business men, I am going to do my duty by one of you, at any 
rate. I shan't show favor to my nephew, Jim, any more than 
I do to the rest. And this is my plan : I want a painting, five 
feet by two, to fill up a place in my house in St. Louis. It's 
an odd shape, and that is so much in my favor, because you 
haven't any of you a painting that size under way, and can all 
start even. I'll leave the subject to each one of you, and I'll 
pay five hundred dollars to the man who paints the best pic- 



114 AMERICAKS IN ROME. 

ture, who has his done within seven days, and puts the most 
work on it I Do you all understand ? '^ 

They replied affirmatively. 

^^ But what the thunder," asked Caper, " are those of us 
who don't win the prize, going to do with paintings of such a 
size, left on our hands ? Nobody, unless a steamboat captain, 
who wants to ornament his berths, just that size, and relieve 
the tedium of his passengers, would ever think of buying 
them." 

**"W"ell," replied Uncle Bill, "I don't want smart young 
men like you all, to lose your time and money ; so I'll buy the 
balance of the paintings for what the canvas and paints cost, 
and give two dollars a day for the seven days employed on 
each painting. Isn't that liberal ? " 

" Like Cosmo de Medici," answered Kocjean j " and I 
agree to the terms in every particular, especially as to putting 
the most work on it I There are four competitors — put down 
their names. Legume, you will come in, won't you ? " 

^^ Certainly I will, by jing ! " answered the French artist, 
who prided himself on his knowledge of English, especially 
the interjections. 

" Then," continued Eocjean, " Caper, Bagswell, Legume, 
and I, will try for your five-hundred-dollar prize. When shall 
we commence ? " 

" To-day is Tuesday," rephed Uncle Bill ; ^^ say next Mon- 
day — that will give you plenty of time to get your frames and 
canvases. So that ends all particulars. There are two friends 
of mine here from the United States — one, Mr. Van Brick, of 
New York, and the other, Mr. Pinchfip, of Philadelphia — 
whom I think you all met here last week." 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 115 

^'The thin gentleman with hair very much brushed, be 
gad ? " asked Legume. 

"Idon^t remember as to his hair," answered Uncle Bill, 
'' but that's the man. Well, these two, I know, will act as 
vampires, and I am sure you will be pleased with their verdict. 
Monday after next, therefore, we will all call ; so be ready." 

The four artists took the whole thing as a joke, but deter- 
mined to paint the pictures ; and, at Caper's suggestion, each 
one agreed, as there was a play of words in the clause, '^ most 
work on it," to puzzle Uncle Bill, and have the laugh on him. 

On the day appointed to decide the prize. Uncle Bill, ac- 
companied by Messrs. Yan Brick and Pinchfip, called first at 
Legume's studio. They found him in the Yia Margutta (in 
English, Malicious street), in a Hght, airy room, furnished with 
a striking attention to effect. On his easel was a painting of 
the required size, representing Louis XV. at Versailles, sur- 
rounded by his lady friends. By making the figures of the 
ladies small, and crowding them, Legume managed to get a 
hundred or two on the canvas. A period in their history to 
which Frenchmen refer with so much pleasure, and with which 
they are so conversant, was treated by the artist with profes? 
sional zeal. The merits of the painting were carefully can- 
vassed by the two judges. Mr. Pinchfip found it exceedingly 
graceful, neat, and pretty. Mr. Van Brick admired the 
females, remarking that he should like to be in old Louis's 
place. To which Legume bowed, asserting that he was sure 
he was in every way qualified to fill it. Mr. Van Brick deter- 
mined in his mind to give the artist a dinner, at Spillman's, for 
that speech. 

Mr. Pinchfip took notes in a book ; Mr. Van Brick asked 



116 AMERICAKS IN EOME. 

for a light to a cigar. The former congratulated the artist; 
the latter at once asked him to come and dine with him. Mr. 
Pinchfip wished to know if he w^as related to the Count Le- 
gume whom he had met at Paris. Mr. Van Brick told him he 
would bring his friend Livingston round to buy a painting. 
Mr. Pinchfip said that it would afford him pleasure to call 
again. Mr. Van Brick gave the artist his card, and shook 
hands with him . . . and the judges were passing out, 
when Legume asked them to take one final look at the paint- 
ing, to see if it had not the most work on it. Mr. Van Brick 
instantly turned toward it, and running over it with his eye, 
burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. 

" If the others beat that, I am mistaken," said he. " Look 
at there ! " calling the attention of Uncle Bill and Mr. Pinchfip 
to a fold of a curtain, on which was painted, in small letters : 

"most work." 

"I say, Browne," continued Mr. Van Brick, "he is too 
many for you ; and if the one who puts ^ most work ^ on his 
painting is to win the five hundred dollars. Legume's chance is 
good." 

"Very ingenious," said Mr. Pinchfip, "very; it's a legiti- 
mate play upon words. But legally, I cannot affirm that I am 
aware of any precedent for awarding Mr. Browne's money to 
Monsieur Legume on this score." 

" "We will have to make a precedent, then," spoke Van 
Brick, " and do it illegally, if we find that he deserves the 
money. But time flies, and we have the other artists to visit." 

They next went to Bagswell's studio, in the Viccolo dei 
Greci, and found him in a large room, well furnished, and hav- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 117 

ing a solidly comfortable look; the walls ornamented with 
paintings, sketches, costumes, armor ; while, in a good light 
under its one large window, was his painting. They found he 
had left his beaten track of historical subjects, and in the genre 
school had an interior of an Italian country inn — a kitchen 
scene. It represented a stout, handsome country girl, in Cio- 
ciara costume, kneading a large trough of dough, while another 
girl was filling pans with that which was already kneaded, and 
two or three other females were carrying them to an oven, 
tended by a man who was pihng brushwood on the fire. The 
painting was very lifelike, and, for the short time employed on 
it, well finished. It wanted the fire and dash of Legume's 
painting, but its truthfulness to life evidently made a deep im- 
pression on Uncle Bill. Stuck on with a sketching tack to one 
corner was a piece of paper, on which was marked the number 
of hours employed each day on the work ; it summed up fifty- 
four hours, or an average each day of nearly eight hours' work 
on it. 

Mr. Pinchfip^s note book was again called into play. Mr. 
Van Brick had another cigar to smoke, remarking that the 
artist had triple work in his picture — head, bread, and prize 
work: his picture representing working in, over, and for 
bread ! 

They next went to see Rocjean, in the Corso. They found 
him in a bournouse, with a fez on his head, a long chibouk in 
his mouth, smoking away, extended at full length on a settee, 
which he insisted was a divan. There was a glass bottle hold- 
ing half a gallon of red wine on a table near him ; also a bottle 
of Marsala, and half a dozen glasses. There was a roaring 
wood-fire in his stove — for it was December, and the day was 
overcast and cool. 



118 AMKRICAKS IN ROME. 

"This is the most out-and-out comfortable old nest IVe 
seen in Rome," said Mr. Van Brick, as they entered ; " and as 
for curiosities and plunder, you beat Barnum. Will I take a 
glass of wine ? I am there ! " 

Eocjean filled up glasses. Mr. Pinchfip declining, as he 
never drank before dinner, neither did he smoke before dinner. 
He told them that the late Doctor Phyzgig, who had always 
been their (the Pinchfips*) family physician, had absolutely for- 
bidden it. 

No one made any remark to this, unless Mr. Van Brick's 
expressive face could be translated as observing, in a quiet 
manner, that the late Doctor was possibly dyspeptic, and prob- 
ably nervous. Eocjean's painting represented a view of the 
Claudian aqueduct, mountains in the distance ; bold foreground, 
shepherd with flocks, a wayside shrine, peasants kneeling in 
front of it. Over all, bold cloud effects. A very ponderous 
volume, balanced on top of the picture and leaning against the 
easel, invited Uncle Bill's attention, and he asked Eocjean why 
he had put it there ? The artist answered, that it was a folio 
copy of Josephus, his works ; and, as he was anxious to comply 
with the terms of Mr. Browne, he had placed it there in order 
to put the most work on it. 

Mr. Pinchfip having asked Eocjean why, in placing that 
book there, he was like a passenger paying his fare to the 
driver of an omnibus ? 

The latter at once answered : 

" I give it up." 

"So you do," replied Pinchfip. "You are quick, sir, at 
answering conundrums." 

Mr. Brick saw it. Finally Uncle Bill was made to com- 
prehend. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 119 

" Very excellent, sir ; very ingenious ! Philadelphians 
may well be proud of the high position they have as punsters, 
utterers of hon mots and conundrums/' said Rocjean. " I have 
had the comfort of living in your city, and thoroughly appre- 
ciating your — markets." 

After Rocjean's, the judges and "Qncle Bill went to Caper^s. 
As they entered his room, they found that ingenious youth 
walking, in his shirt sleeves, in as large a circle as the room 
would permit, bearing on his head a large canvas, while a quite 
pretty female model, named Stella, sat on a sofa, marking down 
something on a piece of paper, using the sole of her shoe for a 
writing desk. 

""We-ell!" said Uncle Bill. 

"One more round," quoth Caper, with unmoved counte- 
nance, *^ and I will be with you. That will make four hundred 
and fifty, won't it, Stella ? " 

" Ehj Gia I one more is all you want." And making an 
extra scratch with a pencil, the female model surveyed the 
newcomers with a triumphant air, plainly saying : " See 
there ! I can write, but I am not proud." 
V " What are you about, Jim ? " 

" Look at that painting ! " answered Caper. " The Bless- 
ing of the Donkeys, Horses, &c. ; it is one of the most impos- 
ing ceremonies of the Church. As my specialty is animal, I 
have chosen it for my painting ; and not contented with labor- 
ing faithfully at it, I have determined, in order to put the thing 
beyond a doubt as to my gaining the prize, to put the most 
work on it of any of my rivals ; so I have actually, as Stella 
will tell you, carried it bodily four hundred and fifty times 
round this studio.'* 



120 AMEEICANS IN ROME. 

" Instead of a painting, I should think you would have 
made a panting of it," spoke Mr. Van Brick. 

"The idea seems to me artful," added Mr. Pinchfip ; "but 
after all, this pedestrian work was not on the painting, but 
under it ; therefore, according to Blackstone on Contracts, this 
comes under the head o&a consideration c?o, ut facias^ see vol. 
ii. page 360. How far moral obligation is a legal considera- 
tion, see note, vol. iii. p. 249 Bossanquet & Puller's Reports. 
The principle servus facit^ ut herus det^ as laid down by . . ." 

" Jove ! " exclaimed Uncle Bill ; " couldn't you stop off 
the torrent for one minute ? I'm drowning — I give up — do 
with me as you see fit." 

• •••••• 

"And now," said Mr. Van Brick, "that we have seen the 

. . . / 

four paintings, let us, Mr. Pinchfip, proceed calmly to discover 

who has won the five hundred dollars. Duly, deliberately, and 
gravely, let us put the four names on four slips of paper, stir 
them up in a hat. Mr. Browne shall then draw out a name, 
the owner of that name shall be the winner." 

It was drawn, and, by good fortune for him, Bagswell won 
the five hundred dollars. Thus Uncle Bill Browne bought one 
painting for a good round sum, and three others at the stipu- 
lated price. Which one of the four had the most work on it, 
is, however, an unsettled question among three of the artists, 
to this day. 



CHAPTEE YI. 

With that wise foresight, shared by all European rulers, 
the Eoraan Pincio was undoubtedly wedded to its purpose of 
keeping the idle ones very busy at the very time of day when 
revolutionary plots find the best hearing — before dinner. 
Whirling around its walks in carriages, or gently promenading 
under trees, among rose bushes, and by fountains, while a large 
band of musicians play with spirit fine selections from the last 
operas, or favorite airs from old ones ; the eye gratified by the 
sight of pleasant faces, or dwelling enraptured on the beautiful 
landscape spread before it — how can the brain disengage itself 
to think of Liberty, won through toil and battle, only to be 
preserved by self-denial and moral strength ? 

But the traveller who travels only to travel, and has the 
means and spirit to find pleasure wherever he goes, thinking 
only of what he sees, enjoys to its fullest extent the luxurious 
seat of the hired, white-damask-Hned carriage, drawn by stal- 
wart, heavy-hmbed, coal-black horses, with sweeping tails, the 
white foam flying from the champed silver bits, the whole turn- 
out driven by a handsome, white-gloved, black-coated Eoman. 
In solemn state and swiftly, he winds up the zigzag road lead- 
ing from the Piazza Popolo (so called from popolo^ a poplar 
tree, and not, as the English will have it, from jpopolo^ the 
6 



122 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

people), and at last readies the summit of Roman ambition — 
the top of the Pincian Hill. He passes other carriages filled 
with other strangers like himself, or with titled and fashionable 
Romans, and finally, his carriage drawn up to one side of the 
broad drive in front of the semicircle where the band plays, he 
descends, to walk around and chat with the friends he may find 
there. 

Toward sunset the scene is full of animation. The sabres 
of the cavalry soldiers, on guard to prevent infraction of rules, 
gleam brightly ; the old infantiy soldiers are darting here and 
there, chasing away sundry ownerless dogs, who always make 
it a point to promenade the Pincio ; the Italian nurses from 
Albano, or at least dressed in Albanese costume, shine con- 
spicuous in their crimson-bodiced dresses ; Englishmen going 
through their constitutional ; Frenchmen mourning for the 
Champs Elysees ; artists in broadbrim hats smoking cigars ; 
Americans observing Italy, so as to be like Italians ; ladies of 
all nations commanding the attention of mankind as they sweep 
along the hard-rolled gravel walks ; smiles, bows, looks of love, 
indignation, afifection, coquetry ; faces reflective of great deeds 
and greater dinners . . . every face bright in the lambent 
amber light that streams from the sun dipping his head pre- 
paratory to putting on his nightcap, and bidding Rome felicis- 
eima notte ! — a most happy night. 

Over the irregular walls of the subdued white and mellow 
gray houses and palaces, beyond the Tiber running red in the 
dying sunlight, over the round-walled castle of San Angelo, 
the dome of St. Peter's rises full in the midst of the twinkling, 
hazy, red and golden light. Passing the stone pines crowning 
Monte Mario, there gleam away to the left the far waters of 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 123 

the sea, over which the purple mist of young night tenderly, 
softly falls. Once thoughtfully noted, you will remember this 
glowing scene years after sublimer and wilder views are lost to 
memory, or grown so faint that they are to you but as dull 
colors seen in dreams of old age compared to the flashing 
brightness of those presented to the closed eyes of youth. 

As the sun sets, and* those in carriages and on foot slowly 
leave the heights of the Pincio, and descend once more to the 
old city, you will hear, as the evening star shines brighter and 
brighter, the first liquid, thrilltng notes of the nightingales ; 
then, as you lean over the stone parapet, dreamily looking into 
the dense foliage of trees and shrubs beneath you, you will feel 
the beauty of those lines : 

" Seek the nightnigale's sequestered bower, 
Who with her lovelorn melody 
So bewitched thee in the vernal hour : 
When she ceased to love, she ceased to be." 

It is from the months of May to November, when travel- 
lers have left Eome, and the city is in the hands of the Ro- 
mans, that your walks on the Pincio will prove something more 
than a mere repetition of a stroll in Baden-Baden, or a revival 
of ideas common to the Prado or Prater. No longer the little 
prettinesses of the Medicean Venus flirt by you in the nervous 
silks that flutter along these walks, but something nobly 
womanly, of a solid past, slow and stately, moves solemnly by. 
We know the life of these copies of the Venus of Milos ; v/e 
know its most commonplace and vulgar attributes, but we 
know, too, its strength ! The city of Rome holds in its women 
the mothers of heroes, when Providence shall withdraw the 



124 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

black veil now hung over their rude minds, and let in the light 
of knowledge. "We who laugh at their sad ignorance, think 
what we would be without liberty — our minds enslaved, 
geography tabooed ! Egypt is a paradise compared to Eome. 

The advantages of foreign travel to an intelligent Ameri- 
can are to teach him . . the disadvantages of living any- 
where save in America. And though the artistic eye dwells 
with such loving repose on the soothing colors of Italy, and 
particularly on the subdued white and gray tones of Roman 
ruins and palaces, walls and houses, yet the owner of that 
artistic eye should restrain his wrath at the fiery-red bricks of 
our own cities ; for let him reflect, that this color goads him on, 
as it doth a bull, to make valorous efforts — to do something ! 

Looking down from the stone balustrade of the Pincio on 
the Piazza Popolo, we note two churches, one on either side of 
the Corso ; their architecture is neither more nor less hideous 
than nine tenths of the other three hundred and odd churches 
of Rome ; the same heavy, half-cooked look about doors and 
windows, suggesting cocked hats of the largest size on the 
heads of dwarfs of no size at all ; the same heavy scroll-work, 
reminding one of the work of a playful giant of a green grocer 
who has made a bouquet of sausages and cabbages, egg plants 
and legs of mutton, and exhibits it to a thick-headed public as 
a — work of art. Roman Plehs ! lay this flattering unction 
to your soul — we did not do that ! 

The history of all nations seems to indicate successive ages 
of grub and butterfly -life ; certainly Rome has been a grub 
long enough. Let us hope the sun of Victor Emanuel, the 
King of Gallant Men, will hasten the time when the Romans 
shall wing their way to the light of Liberty. These mockeries 



AMERICANS IK ROME. 125 

of architecture shall then stand as warning fingers to the Ro- 
mans of the sad days that were ; the days when mind and 
body were enslaved, and the grinning monkey held the dove 
tight-clutched in his brutal grasp. Through sword and fire 
public taste must pass before it is purified : the mountain 
stream, dashing along with bounding steps, is clear and spark- 
ling, but in the long stretch of level pasture-land or prairie it is 
still and — dirty. 

It may be well to descend and wander through those close 
and narrow streets where the waste water of old Roman aque- 
ducts makes green and damp the foundation stories of gloomy 
houses, and where the carefully -nurtured traveller sees sights 
of smoked interiors, dirt and rubbish in the streets, that terrify 
him ; but let him remember that in the worst of these kennels 
the inhabitants have never forgotten that they had a Past, and 
the '^ I am a Roman citizen ! " still rings in their ears, eats into 
their hearts, and is at their tongue's end. Monsieur About was 
in Rome when Caper was there ; he saw these Romans through 
Napoleonic spectacles : while one foot was trying to stamp on 
Antonelli gently, the other was daintily ascending the shining 
steps leading to the temple of Gallic fame. He is impressed 
with the idea that the Romans are hangers-on of hangers-on to 
patricians, from which we are to infer, if the patrfcians are 
ever hung, there will be a heavy weight to their feet ! 

Rocjean, one afternoon, after a walk on the Pincio, was 
returning to his studio, when, as he descended to the Via Ba- 
buino, he met a Roman artist named Attonito, who cultivated 
the Enghsh. 

'^ Ow arr you toe-day, my dear ? " he asked Rocjean. 

" Quite well, except a shght attack of bad English, from 
which I hope to recover in a fev»^ minutes." 



126 AMERICANS IN HOME. 

" Praj tell unto me th-hat weecli is bad Englis," 

" Haven't you been on the Pincio ? " 

" Yas, I tak' consteetutionails up there avery afternoons ; 
it is a costume Englis' th-hat I vary moche cotton to." . . . 

" W-hat ! Cotton to ? "Why, that is a clear American- 
ism ; where did you pick it up ? '^ 

'' Meester Caper of Nog-York, he told unto me it am more 
elegant as to say, I love, or I affection. Bote, 'ave you saw 
that bu-tee-fool creechure with 'air of flags ? " . . . 

"What!" 

" 'Air of flags ; 'ow you name eet ? Capellatura di lino ? " 

" Oh ! you mean tow-head ? " 

" Toe ! no, no ! I mean lino,^^ 

" Ah ! yes ; flaxen hair." 

^'- Benissimo ! Vary well, flagson 'air and blue eyze. 
Shhe was in carri-adge with Lady Blumpudy. I go avery 
afternoons to inspect her as she takes the airs on the Pincio. 
Eet would gife me great pleasures to ally myself to her in 
marriage compact, bote I do not know eef she has a fortune. 
Do you know anytheengs ? " 

" Yes, a great many ; one of which is, that it is my dinner 
time ; and as I turn down the Condotti — good afternoon." 

" Goo-ood by, my dear," answered Attonito, as he slowly 
wandered up the Piazza di Spagna. 

"Another example of the beneficial effects of the Pincio on 
the hourgeoisiej^ thought Rocjean. " When will tho ajarm bell 
in the clock of Roman time ring out its awaking peal ? " 

If one would realize the romantic side of Rome in all its 
stately grandeur, and receive a solemn and ineffaceable impres- 



AMERICANS IN HOME. 127 

sion of its beauty, by all means let him, like Quevedo's hero, 
sleep ''a-daytime," and do his sight-seeing by moonhght or 
starhght ; for, save in some few favored quarters, its inspection 
by gashght would be difficult. Kemember, too, that all that is 
grandly beautiful of Rome, the traveller has seen before he 
reaches the Imperial City — with the eyes of understanding, 
with the eyes of others — in books. 

Nothing but a heap of old stones, bricks, and mortar, is 
there here for the illiterate tourist. He can have six times as 
jolly a time in Paris for half the money that he pays "in that 
old hole where a fellow named Culius Jagsar used to live." 

As if the night were not sufficiently dark in this city, there 
are always those who stand ready with the paint brush of fancy 
to make it even of a darker hue ; whisperings among the 
travellers in hotels of certain Jim Joneses or Bill Smiths who 
have been robbed. Yes, sir ; Qarly in the evening, right there 
in the Corso ; grabbed his watch and chain, struck him on the 
head. You know he was a powerfully built man ; but they 
came behind him, and if he hadn't have done so and so, the 
rascally Italians would have killed him, and so forth. 

" Ee-al'ly ; well, you won't catch me out at nights ! " 

There rises up, as I write, the figure of a slim young man, 
of the daytime iiegro-minstrel style of beauty, who once dwelt 
three weeks in Rome. I know that he was profound in knowl- 
edge of trick and vice, and that he had an impediment in his 
speech — he could never speak the truth. He told a fearful 
tale of a midnight robbery in the Piazza di Spagna — himself 
the victim. It was well told, and I ought to know, for I read 
it years before in a romance ; only the scene was, in type, laid 
in Venice. According to this negro-minstrel style of youth, 



128 AMERICAKS IK ROME. 

he had been seized from behind, held, robbed of watch and 
elegant gold chain, red coral shirt studs, onyx sleeve buttons, 
and a portemonnaie containing fifty scudi^ &c., &c. He v/as 
the theatrical hero of the hotel for two days, and the recipient 
of many drinks. Time, the eater of things, never digested 
this falsehood, and months after the youth had left, I learned 
that he had lost all his jewelry and money at — twenty-deck 
poker. 

A few nights after Caper was domiciled in the Yia Ba- 
buino, Rocjean called on him, and, as he entered his room, care- 
fully extinguished a taper, and was putting it in his pocket, 
when Caper asked him what that was for ? 

*' That ? it's a cerina. Have you been two weeks in 
Eome, and not found out that ? Why, how did you get up 
stairs at night ? " 

" There was a lamp in the entry." 

^' None there to-night, so I had to hght this. It's only a 
long piece of wick, dipped in wax. You see, you can roll it 
up in a ball, and carry it in your pocket, so ! "Without this, 
and a box of matches, you can never hope to be a good Ro- 
man. You must have seen, that where the houses have any 
front doors, three quarters of them are open all night long ; 
for, as on every floor of a house there live different families, 
they find it saves trouble — trouble is money in Rome— to leave 
the door uitclosed. These dark entries — for they are seldom 
lighted — offer a grand chance for intrigues ; and when you 
have lived Ifere as long as I have, you will find out that they 
— improve the chances. A cerina^ in addition to keeping you 
from breaking your neck by tumbling down stone stairs, gives 
light to avoid the stray dogs that sleep around loose, and to 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 129 

see if there is any enemy around who wants to give you a few 
inches of cold steel. You may laugh at robbers here ; but 
you may cry for mercy in vain to a Koman who seeks vendetta 
— revenge, you know. Bad way to use foreign words ; but 
we all do it hei'e. Speak an Italianized English after a time — 
the effect of bad examples. But come ; if you want to see 
Eome by moonlight, it's time we were off." 

As they reached the street, Caper asked Kocjean where he 
could buy the cerina, 

" At any droglieria^^ said the latter. 

" Good ! there is a druggist's store up the street— Borioni's." 

"A drogheria means a grocery store in Eome. If you 
want molasses, however, you must go to the farmacia for it 
(that is the Eoman for druggist's shop), and you will buy it by 
the ounce." 

"Live and learn," said Caper, as they entered the grocery, 
and bought the cenTia-^price, one haioccJio a yard. 

"And now let us walk out to St. Peter's, and see the 
church by moonlight." 

"The want of sidewalks in this city," remarked Eocjean, 
" compelling the Eomans to walk over cobble stones, undoubt- 
edly is the cause of the large feet of the women, added to their 
dislike of being in pain from tight shoes or boots. For genu- 
ine martyrdom from tight shoes, French, Spanish, and Ameri- 
cans — but chiefly Cubans — next to Chinese women, are ahead 
of the world." 

" But apart from the fact that they do walk on the narrow 
sidewalks in the Corso, I have noticed that in the side streets, 
even where there is a footwalk, nobody takes advantage of it 
at night." 

6'^ 



130 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" For a good reason, as we shall probably see," said Eoc- 
jean, ^' before we reach the bridge of San Angelo. But keep 
close to me in the middle of the street." 

The moonlight shone brightly down the narrow street they 
were then walking through, which, but for this, the occasional 
dim light of an oil lamp hung in front of a shrine, the light 
from a wine or grocery shop, and the ruddy blaze of a charcoal 
fire, where chestnuts were roasting for sale, would have been 
dark indeed. The ground floor of very few Roman houses is 
ever occupied as a dwelhng place ; it is given up to shops, 
stables, &c., the famihes residing, according to their wealth, on 
the lowest up to the highest stories ; the Hght purses going up, 
and the heavy ones sinking. They had walked nearly to the 
end of this street, when, happening to look up at the fourth 
story of a house, Caper saw something white being reversed 
in the moonlight, and the next instant a long stream of water, 
reminding him of the horse-tail fall in Switzerland, came 
splashing down where a sidewalk should have been. 

'' "What do you think of the middle of the street now ? " 
asked Rocjean. 

" Let's stick to it, even if we stick in it. I'm going to buy 
an umbrella, and spread itj too^ when I go out of nights, after 
this." 

They reached the bridge of San Angelo, and studied for a 
short time the fine effect of the moonhght shining on the tur- 
bid, slow-flowing Tiber, and lighting up the heavy pile of the 
castle of San Angelo. Then they reached the Piazza of St. 
Peter's, and here the scene was imperial. Out and in through 
the semicircular arcade of massive pillars the moonlight stole 
to sleep upon the soft-toned, gray old pavement, or was thrown 



' AMERICANS IN ROME. 131 

in dancing, sparkling light from the two noble jets of water 
tossed in the clear night air by the splashing fountains. In all 
its gigantic proportions rose up, up into the clear blue of the 
spangled sky, the grand thought of Michael Angelo — the dome 
of St. Peter's. 

Returning from St. Peter's, Rocjean proposed to walk 
through the Trastevere, the other side of the Tiber, and to 
cross over the river by the Ponte Rotto, or Broken Bridge. 
They found the street along the river very quiet. Here and 
there a light showed, as on the other side, a wineshop or coffee 
room ; but the houses had few hghts in them, and, spite of the 
moonhght, the streets looked gloomy and desolate. 

*' They seem to keep dark this side of the river," said Caper. 

^' Yes," answered Rocjean, ^'and live light. They go to 
bed for the most part early, and rise early ; they economize 
fifty-one weeks in the year, in order to live like lords for the 
fifty-second — that is Carnival "Week. Then you shall see these 
queenly Trasteverine in all their bravery, thronging the Corso. 
But here is a clean-looking wineshop ; let us go in and have a 
fogliettay 

They found the shop full of thirsty Romans — it is safe to 
say that — although the number of small flasks showed they 
could not indulge their taste so deeply as they wished to. The 
centre of the listening group of Romans was a bright-eyed, 
curly -haired man, who was reciting, with loud emphasis : 

THE LIFE AND DEATH, 

OF THE PERFIDIOUS ASSASSIN, 

ARRIGO GAEBETINGO OF TRENTO, 

Who slew nine hundred and sixty-four grown persons, and six children. 



132 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

He had already got through his birth and wicked child- 
hood, and had arrived at that impressive part where he com- 
mences his career of brigand at large, accompanied by a 
'^bool-dog"; 

** He had a bull-dog of the English breed, oh ! 

More savage than all others that we've seen, oh ! 
Close at his side it always walked, indeed, oh ! 

And never barked ! but then, his bite was keen, oh ! 
When on some poor man straight he sprung — take heed, oh ! 

His soul from body quickly fled, I ween, oh ! 
Because with cruel, gnashing teeth he tore, oh ! 
Him all to pieces, in a manner sore, oh ! " 

The reciter here stopped to drink another tumbler of wine, 
upon which Caper and Kocjean, having finished their pint, paid 
their scot, and departed. 

*' Was that an improvisatore ? " asked Caper. o 

" He might pass for such with a stranger of inflammable 
imagination, who didn't know the language," answered Roc- 
jean. "He is, in fact, a reciter, and you can buy the poh, 
poh-em he was reciting, at any of the country fairs, of the man 
who sells rosaries and crucifixes. It is one of the cent-songs 
of the Papal States, published con licenza — with license ; and 
a more cruel, disgusting, filthy, and demoralizing tendency than 
it must have on the people, cannot well be imagined; and 
there are hundreds of worse." 

While Rocjean was talking, they had crossed the Ponte 
Rotto, and as he finished his sentence, they stood in front of 
the ruined house of — Cola di Rienzi ! " Redeemer of dark cen- 
turies of shame — the hope of Italy, Rienzi, last of Romans ! " 

" Well," said Rocjean, as he halted in front of the ruined 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 133 

house, and looked carefully at tlie ornamental stones still left, 
*' when St. Peter's church shall be a circus, this house shall be 
a shrine." 

"That being the state of the case/' spoke Caper, "let us 
walk up to the Trevi fountain, and see the effect by moonlight 
of its flashing waters, and inhale the flavor of fried fish from 
the adjacent stands." 

They stood in front of the wild waters, dashing, sparkling 
over the grand mass of tumbled rocks reared behind the wall 
of a large palace. Neptune, car, horses, tritons, all, stone as 
they were, seemed leaping into life in the glittering rays of the 
moonlight ; and the rush and splash of the waters in the great 
basin below the street, contrasted with the silence of the city, 
left a deep impression of largeness and force on the minds of 
the two artists. 

" Let us go down and drink the water ; for he who drinks 
of it shall return again to Eome ! " 

"With all my heart," said Caper; "for if the legend has 
one word of truth in it. Garibaldi will be back again some hello 
giorno " 

" Bello giorno means fine day ; giorno di hello means a day 
for war : I drink to both ! " spoke Rocjean, dipping water up 
in his hand. 

They returned to the street, and were walking toward the 
Piazza di Spagna, when they overtook two well-dressed men, 
evidently none the better for too much wine. As they passed 
them, one of the men said to the other : 

" J-im ! I don't see but what we-we-'ll have to r-r-roost out- 
tall night. I don't know 'ny 'talian — you don't know 'ny 
'talian — we-we-'re nonpl'sh'd, I'm th-think'ng." 



134 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" Ary borry boutere spikinglish ? " said the other one to 
the two artists, as they were walking on. 

*' Yes," said Caper; *' four of 'em. If you've lost your 
way, we'll set you right. "Where's your hotel ? " 

^"Tel? Why, ^Tel Europe p'aza Spanya. Are you 
English?" 

"No, sir; Tm an American born, bred and — buttered," 
said Caper. 

" B-bullyf 'ryou ! We'resame spishies — allrite — d-driv'on ! " 

**Look here," said the one of the two men who was least 
tipsy, *' if this tother g-gen'leman and I could stick our heads 
into c-cold water, w^e'd come out tall right.'* 

" It's only a block or two back to the Trevi fountain," an- 
swered Caper, ^* and if your friend will go with you, you'll find 
water enough there." 

They went back to the fountain, and, descending the steps 
with some difficulty, the two men soon had their heads pretty 
well cooled off, and came up with cleared intellects and im- 
proved pronunciation. In the course of conversation, it ap- 
peared that the two travellers — for such they were — after 
rather too much wine at dinner in their hotel, had been invited 
to the German Club, where Rhine wine, &c , had finished them 
off. Attempting to return to their hotel alone, they had lost 
their way. As the four walked along, it came out that one of 
them owned a painting by Rocjean ; and when he discovered 
that one of his guides was no other than that Americanized 
Frenchman, the whole party at once fraternized, and, disre- 
garding any more moonlight effects, walked at once to Caper's 
rooms, where, over cigars and a bottle of Copalti's wine, they 
signed, sealed, and delivered a compact to have a good time 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 135 

generally for the week the two travellers intended devoting to 
Rome. The moral of which is . . . that you make more 
friends than meet enemies — walking round Rome by night. 

They were in the presence of a man with flowing hair, 
flowing beard, and flowing language, in a studio, all hght from 
which was excluded by heavy curtains, except enough to dis- 
play an easel on which was placed a painting, a background of 
dark blue, where were many apparently spider and crow 
tracks. 

" Those who, in the profundity of their darkness, incline to 
the belief that the vitality of art, butterfly-like, has fled from 
this sunny world, have made the biggest kind of a mistake," 
said Mr. Artaxerxes Phlamm, the Mystic Artist, to Caper. 
The hit was evidently intended for Rocjean, but that descend- 
ant of the Gauls, for some reason, did not smite back again ; 
he contented himself with the remark : 

'' Art is long." 

*' Yes, sir," continued Mr. Phlamm ; " not only it has 
length, but breadth, breadth, broadness; it extends from — 
yes — from — pole to pole." 

" Like a clothes line," said Caper. 

*' Ah ! " continued Phlamm, with a pickled smile, " Fancy, 
ever Fancy ; but it is Imagination that, as it were, brings man 
to a level with his destiny, and elevates him to the Olympium 
heights of the True, and all that rises much above the meedy- 
ochre. But I must not forget that this is your first visit to me 
studeeyoh. The painting on the easel is a view of Venice on 
the Grand Canal." 

"But," said Rocjean, "I do not see the canal." 



136 AMEKICANS IN ROME. 

"When you are gazing at the stars, do you see your 
boots ? " asked Phlamm. 

" I always do," spoke Caper, quickly ; " always gaze at 
'em at night; smoke a cigar— put my feet higher than my 
liead — sit in a chair — stars reflected in boots — big thing ! " 

"You are full of life and spirits, Caper," continued 
Phlamm ; " full of 'em ; but Rocjean is more serious — more 
imbued with his nobil calling. My illustration, as he under- 
stands, would convey the idea that such a thing as foreground 
in a painting is false ; it's a sham, it's a delusion, and all that. 
It may do for pre-Raffleites, but for a man who looks Nay- 
chure in the face, he sees her operating diversely, and he 
works accordingly. I repeat it again: when I was on the 
Grand Canal in Venice, I didn't see the Grand Canal." 

" Neither did I," spoke Caper ; " we're just alike. I kept 
my head all the time out of the gondola w^indow, looking for 
pretty girls — and I saw them ! " 

" May I ask why you dead-color your canvas blue, and 
then make your drawing in black outline ? " asked Rocjean. 

" What is the color of the sky ? Is it not blue ? Is not 
blue a cold color ? Is it not the negative to the warmth, the 
balance to the scales, the one thing needed on which to rear 
the glorious fabric that Naychure reveals to the undimmed 
vision of man ? I know your answer, and I refute it. I have 
studied Art from its roots, and now I'm in the branches, and I 
grasp the fruit. My manner is peculiar. I have no patent for 
it ; I ask for none. The iUimitable passes the legitimate, and 
the sw-word is carried by the hero — for me the bruzh, the 
paint bruzh. You see that painting before you? — it is my 
child. I lavish on it my intentions. I am going to work three 
years on that picture ! " 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 137 

" I bet you a new hat you sell it, and a dozen more, and 
send 'em off before six months. You're all the rage now, 
since you sold old Goldburg a picture," quoth Caper. 

" I don't bet ; I am opposed to betting. But look that pic- 
ture of mine in the face — in the face ! Here is a finished 
painting. The Lake of Zurich. See those clouds floating 
mistily away into the far distance — there's atmosphere for you ! 
there's air ! You can't cut those clouds into slices of cheese, 
as you can them of that humbug of a Cloud Lowrain. Cloud 
Lowrain ! he's a purty painter ! Naychure is my teacher. I 
go out mornings, and hear the jackdaws chatter, and see trees, 
and all that. Sometimes I walk around in a garden for ten 
minutes, and commune with Naychure — that's the way to do 
it. Look at clouds before you paint 'em. I know it's hard, 
when the sun's in your eyes ; but do it. I've spent a week at a 
time outdoors, like "Wordsworth, and the great, the grand, ths 
colossial Euzking." 

'' I like that water," said Rocjean, alluding to that of the 
painting. 

" Water is my peculiar study, I am now engaged experi- 
menting on it — see there ! " Here Phlamm pointed to a basin. 

*' Been washing your hands ? " asked Caper. 

" Scientifically experimenting, not manually. "Water is 
soup-or-fish-all ; earth is not soup-or-fish-all." 

*^Our dinners are, during Lent," quoth Caper, ^'unless 
we're heretics." 

*' I don't understand your frivolity. What do you mean ? " 

" Didn't you say, ' Soup or all fish ? ' " 

" Pshaw ! You will never make an artist — never, never ! 
You are too — too superficiall — too much of the earth — dirty." 



138 AMERICANS I N R O Jf E . 

" Oh ! now I understand," answered Caper. " Give it to 
me ; I deserve it." 

" I was studying water, its shadows and its superficiahtj, in 
that basin," continued Phlamm ; *' and I study the ocean there, 
and have devolved great principles from it. What makes my 
pictures sought for by the high and the low — wealthy ? What ? 
It's the Truth in 'em, the Mystery, the Naychure. The old 
masters were humbugs ; they weren't mysterious ; they had no 
inner sight into the workings of Naychure. Who'd buy one 
of their pictures, when he might have a Turner for the same 
price ? Nobody." 

'' Wouldn't he ? " asked Caper. *^ Try him with a Eaphael 
— just a small one." 

" Eaphael ? You mean Raffaele. Ah ! he loas a painter ; 
he wasn't one of the old masters, however ; he was a middle- 
age master. What sweetness ! what a kind of — sweetness 
generally ! what a blending" of the prayerful infant with the 
enthusiastic beauty ! the — the polished chastity of his Madon- 
nas ! the folds of his drapery, and — the drapery of his folds ! 
Truly enchanting, and so very uncommonly gentlemanly in his 
colors.'* 

" The Chesterfield of oil colors ? " suggested Rocjean. 
" But a propos of Nature ; you never paint a picture directly 
from her, do you ? " 

'^ Never ! Does a great historical painter use the model ? 
No, sir ; he draws on his imagination for his figures. He 
scorns to copy from a model. I convey the impression of mys- 
tery that Naychure gives me ; I am no servile copyist. And 
I claim to leave an impression on the minds of the beholders 
of my works. Why, even Caper, I believe, can see what I 



AM.ERICANS IN ROME. 139 

wish to tell, and read my poems on canvas. Tell me, Caper, 
what idea does even that rough sketch of Venice awake in 
your imaginative faculties, and all that ? " 

Caper's face wore a deeply thoughtful look, as he an- 
swered : " I do see it ; I do claim to read the lesson you would 
teach " 

" Speak it out," interrupted Phlamm ; " I knew you would 
feel the deep, mysterious sentiment as is in it." 

^^ Spider tracks and crows' feet on the blue mud of a big 
marsh," spoke Caper, resolutely. 

" Pshaw ! " exclaimed Phlamm, impetuously ; " you have 
no faith ; and without that, all Art is a sealed thing. Gold- 
burg, to whom I lately sold a painting, had faith. He saw the 
grand idea which I explained to him in that picture. He knew 
that the Earl of Bigbarns had purchased a work of mine, and 
he said to me : ' The opinion of such a man is an opinion as 
should be a valuable opinion to a business man, and govern the 
sentiments of those who worship Art.' Other artists see Nay- 
chure, but how do they see her ? I answer, blindly ! They 
don't feel her here ! " (Phlamm struck his waistcoat in fearful 
proximity to a pocket in it, and altogether too low for his 
heart.) 

" Nay-chure," said Caper to Rocjean, as they left this stu- 
dio of the mysterious one, ** ruined a good Barnum to make a 
poor Phlamm, when she made him." 

It is a mournful sight to see a city of one hundred and 
eighty thousand five hundred and thirty-nine inhabitants, in- 
cluding one thousand three hundred and thirty-one priests, two 
thousand four hundred and four monks, and eight hundred and 



140 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

fifty-four Jews, Turks, and heretics, as the census had it, 
attacked with hydrophobia. But it is so. A preternatural 
dread of water rages among all the inhabitants of Rome, from 
the untitled down to the titled. 

" Madame," said Rocjean to a distinguished female model, 
" I assure you that, in the sixth century (or, as Sir Gardiner 
Wilkinson has it, in the five hundred), there were nine thou- 
sand and twenty -five baths in this city." 

"Those must have been good times," replied she, "for the 
washerwomen, seguro ! There are a good many clothes of 
the forestieri (strangers) washed here now ; but not so many 
different places to wash them in." 

" I mean places to bathe one's self all over in." 

^^ Mai! Never, never ! " exclaimed the woman, with hor- 
ror ; " never ! 'twould give them the fever — kill them dead ! " 

Mr. Yan Brick, of New York, arriving in Rome early in 
the morning, demanded of the porter at the hotel where he 
could find a hagno, or place where he could get a bath. He 
was directed to go down the Babuino, and at such a number he 
would find the establishment. Forgetting the number before 
he was three steps from the hotel, he inquired of a man who 
was driving a she jackass to be milked, where the bath was. 
As he spoke very little Italian, he had to make up by signs 
what he wanted in words. The man, probably believing ho 
wanted a church, and that his motions signified being sprinkled 
with water, pointed to the Greek church ; and Yan Brick, 
thinking it was a solemn looking old hagno^ strode in, to his 
astonishment finding out, as soon as he entered, that he was by 
no means in the right place. As he turned to go out, he saw 
an amiable-looking young man, with a black cocked hat in his 



AMEKICAJSrS IN ROME. 141 

hand, and a black serge shirt on that came down to his heels, 
and had a waistband drawing it in over his hips. He asked the 
young man, as well as he could in Italian, where there was a 
hagno. 

'' The signore is English ? " asked the youth in the black 
shirt. 

^' I want a bath," said Van Brick ; " which way ? " 

"Have patience, signore. There are a great many English 
in Eome." 

*' Farewell ! " quoth Van Brick, turning on his heel, re- 
flecting : " That youth talks too much. He does it to conceal 
his ignorance. He don't know what a bath is." Coming out 
of the church, he met a good-natured looking Eoman girl, 
without any bonnet, as usual, going along with a bottle of 
wine and a loaf of bread. 

" Can you tell me where the bath is ? " 

^^ Chi lo sa^ signore." 

This CHI LO SA, or, " who knows ? " of the Romans, is a 
shaft that would kill Paul Pry. It nearly throws an inquisitive 
man into convulsions. He meets it at every turn. The sim- 
plest question is knocked to pieces by it. So common is it for 
a Roman of the true plebs breed to give you this for an answer 
to almost every question, that Rocjean once won a hat from 
Caper in this wise : They stood, one evening, in front of a gro- 
cer's store, down by the Pantheon. It was brilliantly illumi- 
nated with hundreds of candles, displaying piles of hams, 
cheese, butter, eggs, &c., &c. Chandehers constructed of egg- 
shells, where candles shone brightly, particularly struck Caper. 

" You see," said Rocjean, *' as any one else can see, that 
those chandeliers are made of egg shells. Now, I will bet you 



142 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

a hat that I will ask four men, one after another, who may 
come to look in this window, what those chandehers are made 
of, and three at least, if not all four of them, will answer, 
' Who knows ? ' ( Chi lo sa):' 

" Done ! " said Caper. 

Eocjean asked four men, one after another. All four an- 
swered : *' Who knows ? " 

But to continue the bath hunt. Van Brick was thrown 
over by the girl's answer, and next asked an old woman, who 
was standing at the door of a house, buying broccoli from a 
man with a handcart. 

" Can you tell me where the bath is ? " 

^^ The bath?" 

*'Yes; the bath." 

" Is it where they boil water for the English ? " 

" That must be the shop," quoth Brick. 

*' That is the place," pointing with her finger to a house on 
the opposite side of the way. 

Van Brick crossed over, and, after five minutes' hunt over 
the whole house, was coming down disheartened, when he saw 
a pretty girl, about eighteen years old, standing by the door- 
way. 

*^ Can you tell me where the bath is ? " 

" Seguro I I attend to them. You can't have a warm 
bath for two or three hours yet, for there is no fire ; but you 
can have a cold one." 

" Well, let me have it as quickly as possible." 

** Yes, sir. We have no soap for sale, but you can get it 
two doors off." 

Van Brick went out, and after a time returned with a cake 
of soap. 



AMEKICANS IN ROME. 143 

" Signore," said the girl, when he went back, ^^ the water is 
all running out of the hole in the bottom of the tub, and I 
can't stop it." 

^^ H'm ! Show me the tub ; I am a splendid mechanic.'^ 

The hole being stopped, the tub was rapidly filling with 
water. Van Brick, in anticipation, was enjoying his bath, 
when in rushed the attendant. 

^' Signore, you will have to wait a few minutes — until I 
wash some towels^" 

Van Brick was in extremis. Taking a gold scudo — one of 
those dear little one-dollar pieces the Romans call farfdlle 
(butterflies) — from his pocket, he thus addressed her : 

" Maiden, rush round the corner, and buy me a yard of 
anything that will dry me. I don't care what it is, except salt 
fish." 

^^ Oh ! but these English are bursting with money," thought 
the girl ; and thus thinking, she made great haste, only stop- 
ping to tell three or four friends about the crazy man that was 
round at her place, who didn't want salt fish to make him dry. 

^* Behold me back again ! " said the girl ; *^ I flew." 

" Yes," said Van Brick, '' and so did time ; and he got 
ahead of you about half an hour. Give me the towels." 

^^ Si, signore, behold them ! See how fine they are ! 
What an elegant fringe on them ; and only twenty-five hai- 
ocelli apiece, fringe and all included." 

Van Brick, at last left in peace, plunged into the bath. 

"When he came out, he found he had half a scudo to pay for 
the water, half a scudo for towels, quarter of a scudo for soap, 
and another quarter scudo for a luona mano to the bath girl. 
Total, one dollar and a half. 



144 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

"Now," soliloquized Van Brick, as he dressed himself, "I 
have an arithmetical question to solve. If a Roman, by hard 
scratching, can earn twenty cents a day, and it costs him 
twenty-five cents for board and lodging, how long will it be 
before he saves up a dollar and a half to take a bath? But 
that intelhgent maiden will tell me, I know ? " He asked her. 

" Signore, the Romans never bathe." 

*' You mean the Catholic Romans ; for the pagan Romans 
didn't do anything else." 

" They're all burning up in the inferno^ seguro I " said the 
maiden. 

" But they had fifteen aqueducts to keep them cool when 
they were alive," spoke Van Brick. 

" Chi lo sa. We have three aqueducts, we Romans, and 
we have more water — yes, more water than we can — drink." 

" Yes, while there's wine about. Adio^ lella ninfa I " 



CHAPTEE VII. 

There was a shop occupied by a dealer in paintings, en- 
gravings, intaglios, old crockery, and BriC'd-hrac-Qrj generally, 
down the Via Condotti, and into this shop Mr. WilHam 
Browne, of St. Louis, one morning found his way. He had 
been induced to enter by reading in the window, written on a 
piece of paper, 

"a reel tittano for sal," 

and as he wisely surmised that the dealer intended to notify the 
English that he had a painting by Titian, for sale, he went in 
to see it. 

Unfortunately for Mr. Browne, familiarly known as Uncle 
Bill, he had one of those faces that invariably induced Koman 
tradesmen to resort to the Oriental mode of doing business, 
namely, charging three hundred per cent, profit ; and as this 
dealer, having formerly been a courier, commissionaire, and 
pander to English and American travellers, naturally spoke a 
disgustmg jargon of Italianized Enghsh, and had what he be- 
lieved were the most distinguished manners — he charged five 
hundred per cent. 

"I want," said Uncle Bill to the "brickbat" man, "to see 
your Titian." 

1 



146 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" I shall expose 'im to you in one moment, sare ; you walk 
this way. He-s var' fine pickshoor, var' fine. You ben long 
time in Rome, sare ? " 

No reply from Uncle Bill. His idea was, even a wise man 
may ask questions, but none but fools answer fools. 

Brickbat man finds that his customer has ascended the 
human scale one step ; he prepares " to spring dodge " Num- 
ber Two on him. 

*' Thare, sare, thare is II Tiziano ! I s'pose you say you 
see notheeng bote large peas board : zat peas board was one 
table for two, tree hundret yars ; all zat time ze pickshoor was 
unbeknounst undair ze table. Zey torn up ze table, and you 
see a none-doubted Tiziano. Var' fine pickshoor ! " 

" Do you know," asked Uncle Bill, '^ if it was in a temper- 
ance family all that time ? " 

" I am not acquent zat word, demprance — wot it means ? " 
^ Sober," was the answer. 

*Yas, zat was in var' sobair fam'ly — in convent of 
nons." 

'^ That will account for its being undiscovered so long ; all 
the world knows they are not inquisitive ! If it had been in a 
drinking house, somebody falling under the table would have 
seen it — wouldn't they ? " 

Brickbat reflects, and comes to the conclusion that the 
'' eldairly cove " is wider awake than he believed him, at first 
sight. 

" Now I torne zis board, you see, on ze othaire side, ze 
Bella Donna of Tiziano. Zere is one in ze Sciarra palace, 
bote betwane you and T, I don't believe it is gin'wine." 

" I don't know much about paintings," spoke Uncle Bill^ 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 147 

" but I know IVe seen seventy-six of these Belli Donners, and 
each one was sworn to as the original picture ! '* 

" Var' true, sare, var' true ; Tiziano Yermecellio was grate 
pantaire, man of grate mind ; and when he got holt onto fine 
subjick, he work him ovair and ovair feefty, seexty times. Ze 
chiaro-'scuro is var' fine, and ze depfs of his tone somethings 
var' deep, vary. Look at ze flaish, sare — you can pinch him ; 
and, sare, you look here, I expose grand secret to you. I take 
zis pensnife, I scratgis ze pant. Look zare ! " 

'' Well," said Uncle Bill, '' I don't see anything." 

" You don't see anne theengs ! "Wot you see under ze 
pant ? " 

" It looks like dirt.'* 

" Cospetto I zat is ze gr-and prep-par-ra-tion zat makes ze 
flaish of Tiziano more natooral as life. You know grate pan- 
taire, Mistaire Leaf, as lives in ze Ripetta ? Zat man has 
spend half his lifes scratging Tiziano all to peases, for find out 
'ow he mak's flaish : now he believes he found out ze way, 
bote, betwane you and I " Here the brickbat man con- 
veyed, by a shake of his head and a tremolo movement of his 
left hand, the idea that *' it was all in vain." 

" What do you ask for the picture ? " asked Uncle Bill. 

The head of the brickbat man actually disappeared be- 
tween his shoulders as he shrugged them up, and extended his 
hands at his sides like the flappers of a turtle. Uncle Bill 
looked at the man in admiration ; he had never seen such a 
performance before, save by a certain contortionist in a travel- 
ling circus ; and in his delight he asked the man, when his 
head appeared, if he wouldn't do that once more — only once 
more ! 



148 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

111 his surprise at being asked to perform the trick, he actu- 
ally went through it again ; for which Uncle Bill thanked him 
kindly, and again asked the price of the Titian. 

" I tak' seex t'ousand scudi for him ; not one baiocchj 
less." 

"It an't dear, 'specially for those who have the money to 
scatterlophisticate," replied Uncle Bill, cheerfully. 

" No, sare ; it ees dogs chip — var' chip. I have sev'ral 
Englis' want to buy him bad. I shall sell him some days to 
somebodies. Bote, sare, will you 'ave ze goodniss to write 
down on peas paper zat word — var' fine word — you use him 
minit 'go — scatolofistico sometheengs. I wis' to lam ze Eng- 
lis' better as I spiks him." 

" Certainly ; give me a pencil and paper. I'll write it 
down, and you'll astonish some Englishman with it, I'll bet a 
hat." 

So it was written down ; and if any one ever entered a 
shop in the Condotti where there was a Titiano for Sal, and 
was " astonished " by hearing that word used, they may know 
whence it came. 

Mr. Browne, after carefully examining the usual ydlow 
marble model of the column of Trajan, .the alabaster pyramid 
of Caius Cestius, the verd-antique obelisks, the bronze lamps, 
lizards, marble tazze, and paste gems of the modern-antique 
factories, the ever-present Beatrice Cenci on canvas, and the 
water-color costumes of Italy, made a purchase of a Roman 
mosaic paperweight, wherein there was a green parrot with a 
red tail and blue legs, let in with minute particles of compo- 
sition resembling stone, and left the brickbat man alone with 
his Titiano for Sal. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 149 

Rocjean came into Caper's studio one morning, evidently 
having something to communicate. 

*^ Are you busy this morning ? If not, come along with 
me ; there is something to be seen — something that beats the 
Mahmoudy Canal of the Past, or the Suez Canal of the Pres- 
ent, for wholesale slaughter ; for I do assure you, on the au- 
thority of Hassel, that nine hundred and thirty six million four 
hundred and sixty-one thousand people died before it was 
finished ! " ' 

" That must be a work worth looking at. Why, the pyra- 
mids must be as ant-hills to Chimborazo in comparison to it ! 
Nine hundred and odd millions of mortals ! Why, that is 
about the number dying in a generation — and these have 
passed away while it was being completed ? It ought to be a 
masterpiece." 

" Can't we get a glass of wine round here ? " asked Eoc- 
jean, looking at his watch ; " it is about luncheon time, and I 
have a charming little thirst." 

^' Oh ! yes, there is a wineshop only three doors from here, 
pure Roman. Let us go ; we can stand out in the street, and 
drink, if you are afraid to go in." 

Leaving the studio, they walked a few steps to a house 
that was literally aU front-door ; for the entrance was the entire 
width of the building, and a buffalo team could have passed in 
without let. Outside stood a winecart, from which they were 
unloading several small casks of wine. The driver's seat had 
a hood over it, protecting him from the sun, as he lazily sleeps 
there, rumbling over the tufa road, to or from the Campagna, 
and around the seat were painted, in gay colors, various pat- 
terns of things unknown. In the autumn, vine branches, with 



150 AMERICANS IK ROME. 

pendent, rustling leaves, decorate hood and horse ; while in 
spring or summer, a bunch of flowers often ornaments this gay- 
looking winecart. 

The interior of the shop was dark, dingy, sombre, and dirty 
enough to have thrown an old Flemish Interior-artist into 
hysterics of delight. There was an olla-podrida browniness 
about it that would have entranced a native of Seville ; and a 
collection of dirt around, that would have elevated a Chippewa 
Indian to an ecstasy of delight. The reed mattings hung 
against the walls were of a golden ochre color, the smoked 
walls and ceiling the shade of asphaltum and burnt sienna, the 
unswept stone pavement a warm gray, the old tables and 
benches very rich in tone and dirt ; the back of the shop, even 
at midday, dark, and the eye caught there glimpses of arches, 
barrels, earthen jars, tables, and benches, resting in twilight, 
and only brought out in relief by the faint light always burn- 
ing in front of the shrine of the Virgin, that hung on one of 
the walls. 

In a wineshop, this shrine does not seem out of place — it is 
artistic ; but in a lottery office, open to the Hght of day, and 
glaringly commonplace, the Virgin hanging there looks much 
more like the goddess Fortuna than Santa Maria. 

But they are inside the wineshop, and the next instant a 
black-haired, gypsyJooking woman, with flashing black eyes, 
warming up the sombre color of the shop by the fiery-red and 
golden silk handkerchief which falls fropi the back of her head, 
Neapolitan fashion, illuminating th^-t dusky pld den like fire- 
works, asks them what they will order ? 

" A foglietta of white wine," 

" Sweet or dry ? " 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 151 

" Dry " (asciutto), said Rocjean. 

There it is, on the table, in a glass flask brittle as virtue, 
light as sin, and fragile as folly. They are called Sixtusses, 
after that pious old Sixtus Y. who hanged a publican and wine- 
seller sinner in front of his shop for blasphemously expressing 
his opinion as to the correctness of charging four times as much 
to put the fluoric acid government stamp on them as the glass 
cost. However, taxes must be raised, and the thinner the 
glass, the easier it is broken, so the Papal government compel 
the wine sellers to buy these glass bubbles, forbidding the sale 
of wine out of anything else, save the hottiglie ; and as it raises 
money by touching them up with acid, why, the people have 
to stand it. These fogliette have round bodies and long, broad 
necks, on which you notice a white mark made with the before- 
mentioned chemical preparation ; up to this mark the wine 
should come, but the attendant generally takes thumbtoll, 
especially in the restaurants where foreigners go, for the Roman 
citizen is not to be swindled, and will have his rights : the 
single expression, "I am a Roman citizen," will at times save 
him at least two haiocchi^ with which he can buy a cigar. 
There was a time when these words would have checked the 
severest decrees of the highest magistrate ; now, when they 
fire off "that gun," the French soldiers stand at its mouth, 
laugh, and say, *' Boom I you have no balls for your cart- 
ridges ! " 

The wine finished, our two artists took up their line of 
march for the object that had outlived so many millions on 
millions of human beings, and at last reached it, discovering its 
abode afar off by the crowd of fair and unfair, or red-haired 
Saxons, who were thronging up a staircase of a house near the 



152 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Ripetta, as if a steamboat were ringing her last bell, and the 
plank were being drawn in. 

^^ And pray, can you tell me, Mister BuUer, if it's a positive ' 
fact that the man has been so long as they say, at work on the 
thing?" 

^^And ah! I haven't the slightest doubt of it, myself. I've 
been told that he has worked on it, to be sure, for full thirty 
years ; and I may say I am delighted that he has it done at 
last, and that it is to be packed up and sent away to St. Peters- 
burg next week. And how do you like the Hotel Minerva ? 
I think it's not a very dirty inn, but the waiters are very de- 
manding, and the fleas " 

" I beg you won't speak of them ; it makes my blood run 
cold. Have you seen the last copy of Galignani? The 
Americans, I am glad to see, have had trouble with us, and I 
hope they will be properly punished. Do you know the Duke 
of Bigghed is in town ? " 

" Really ! and when did he come ? — and where is the 
duchess ? Oh ! she's a very amiable lady ; but here's the 
picture ! " 

Ushered in, or preceded by this rattle-headed talk, Caper 
and Rocjean stood at last before Ivanhof 's celebrated painting 
— finished at last ! Thirty years' work, and the result ? 

A very unsatisfactory stream of water, a crowd of Orien- 
tals, and our Saviour descending a hill. 

The general impression left on the mind after seeing it, was 
like that produced by a wax-work show. Nature was traves- 
tied ; ease, grace, freedom, were wanting. Evidently the 
thirty years might have been better spent collecting beetles or 
dried grasses. 



AMEEICANS IN ROME. 153 

Around the walls of the studio hung sketches painted dur- 
ing visits the artist had made to the East. Here were studies 
of Eastern heads, costumes, trees, soil by riverside, sand in the 
desert, copied with scrupulous care and precise truth ; yet, when 
they were all together in the great painting, the combined 
effect was a failure. 

The artist, they said, had, during this long period, received 
an annual pension of so many roubles from the Russian govern- 
ment, and had taken his time about it. At last it was com- 
pleted ; the painting that had outlasted a generation was to be 
sent to St. Petersburg to hibernate, after a lifetime spent in 
sunny Italy. Well ! after all, it was better worth the money 
paid for it, than that paid for nine tenths of those kingly toys 
in the baby-house Green Chambers of Dresden. Le Roi 
s* amuse I 

And the white-haired Saxons came in shoals to the studio 
to see the painting with thirty years' labor on it, and accord- 
ingly as their oracles had judged it, so did they : for behold ! 
gay colors are tabooed in the mythology 'of the Pokerites, and 
are classed with perfumes, dance music, and jollity, and art 
earns a precarious livelihood in their land, where all knowledge 
of it is supposed to be tied up with the enjoyers of primo- 
geniture. 

The Apollo, where grand opera, sandwiched with moral 
ballets, is given for the benefit of foreigners, principally, would 
be a fine house if you could only see it ; but when Caper was 
in Rome, the oil lamps, showing you where to sit down, did 
not reveal its proportions, or the dresses of the box beauties, 
to any advantage ; and as oil lamps will smoke, there settled a 
7* 



154 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

veil over the theatre toward the second act, that draped 
Comedy hke Tragedy, and then set her to coughing. 

During Carnival, a melancholy ball or two was given there. 
A few wild foreigners venturing in masked, believed they had 
mistaken the house ; for, although many women were wander- 
ing around in domino, they found the Roman young men un- 
masked, walking about dressed in canes and those dress coats 
familiarly known as tail coats, which cause a man to look like 
a swallow with the legs of a crane, and wearing on their im- 
passive faces the appearance of men waiting for an oyster sup- 
per — or an earthquake. 

The commissionaire at the hotel always recommends stran- 
gers to go to the Apollo : " I will git you loge, sare, first tier — 
more noble, sare." 

The Capranica Theatre is next in size and importance. It 
is beyond the Pantheon, out of the foreign quarter of Rome, 
and you will find in it a Roman audience— to a limited extent. 
Salvini acted there in Othello^ and filled the character admira- 
bly. It is needless to say that lago received even more ap- 
plause than Othello ; Italians know such men profoundly — 
they are Figaros turned undertakers. Opera was given at the 
Capranica when the Apollo was closed. 

The Valle is a small establishment, where Romans, pure 
blood, of the middle class, and the nobility who did not hang 
on to foreigners, were to be found. Giuseppina Gassier, who 
has since sung in America, was prima donna there, appearing 
generally in the Sonnamhula. 

But the Capranica Theatre was the resort for the Roman 
mmentij decked in all their bravery. Here came the shoe- 
maker, the tailor, and the small artisan, all with their wives or 



AMEEICANS IN BO ME. 155 

women, and with them the wealthy peasant who had ten cents 
to pay for entrance. Here the audience wept and laughed, 
applauded the actors, and talked to each other from one side 
of the house to the other. Here the plays represented Roman 
life in the rough, and were full of words and expressions not 
down in any dictionary or phrase book ; nor in these local dis- 
plays were forgotten various Roman peculiarities of accentua- 
tion of words, and curious intonations of voice. The Roman 
people indulge in chest notes, leaving head notes to the Nea- 
politans, who certainly do not possess such smoothness of 
tongue as would classify them among their brethren in the old 
proverb : ^' "When the confusion of tongues happened at the 
building of the tower of Babel, if the Italian had been there, 
Nimrod would have made him a plasterer ! " 

You will do well, if you want to learn from the stage and 
audience, the Roman plebs^ their customs and language, to 
attend the Capranica Theatre often ; to attend it in '' fatigue 
dress," and in gentle mood, being neither shocked nor aston- 
ished if a good-looking Roman youth should call your attention 
to the fact that there is a beautiful girl in the box to the left 
hand, and inquire if you know whether she is the daughter of 
Santi Stefoni, the grocer ? And should the man on the other 
side offer you some pumpkin seeds to eat, by all means accept 
a few; you can't tell what they may bring forth, if you will 
only plant them cheerfully. 

Do not think it strange, if a doctor on the stage recom- 
mends conserve of vipers to a consumptive patient ; for these 
poisonous reptiles are caught in large numbers in the moun- 
tains back of Rome, and sold to the city apothecaries, who pre- 
pare large quantities of them for their customers. 



156 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

When you see, perhaps the hero of the play, thrown into 
a paroxysm of anger and fiery wrath by some untoward event, 
proceed calmly to cut up two lemons, squeeze into a tumbler 
their juice, and then drink it down — learn that it is a common 
Roman remedy for anger. 

Or if, when a piece of crockery, or other fragile article, 
may be broken, you notice one of the actors carefully counting 
the pieces, do not think it is done in order to reconstruct the 
article, but to guide him in the purchase of a lottery ticket. 

When you notice that on one of his hands the second 
finger is twined over the first, of the Rightful-heir in presence 
of the Wrongful-heir, you may know that the first is guarding 
himself against the Evil Eye supposed to belong to the second. 

And — the list could be extended to an indefinite length — 
you will learn more, by going to the Capranica. 

At the Metastasio Theatre there was a French vaudeville 
company, passably good, attended by a French audience, the 
majority officers and soldiers. Here were presented such 
attractive plays as La Femme qui Mord^ or " The Woman who 
Bites ; " Sullivan, the hero of which gets hien grisj very gray 
— ^that is, blue — that is, very tipsy ; and, at the close, astonishes 
the audience with the moral : To get tight, is human ! Dali- 
lah, &c., &c.' The French are not very well beloved by the 
Romans pure and simple ; it is not astonishing, therefore, that 
their language should be laughed at. One morning Rome 
woke up to find placards all over the city, headed : 

FRENCH 

TAUGHT IN THIRTY-SIX LESSONS ! 

Apply to Monsieur So-and-so. 

A few days afterward appeared a fearful woodcut, the 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 157 

head of a jackass, with his tongue hanging down several 
inches, and under it these words, in Itahan : "The only 
tongue yet learnt in less than thirty-six lessons ! " 

Caper, seated one night in the parquette of the Metastasio, 
had at his side a French infantry soldier. In conversation, he 
asked him : 

" How long have yoa been in Eome ? " 

" Three years, Ifossu.^^ 

" "Wouldn't you like to return to France ? " 

** Not at all." 

"Why not?" 

" Wine is cheap here, tobacco not dear, the ladies are ex- 
tremely kind : voila tout I " 

" You have all these in France." 

^^ Out, Mossu! but when I return there, I shall be a 
farmer again; and it's a frightful fact, that you may plough 
your heart out, without turning up but a very small quantity 
of these articles there ! " 

French soldiers still protect Rome — and "these articles 
there." 

" Can you tell me," said Uncle Bill Browne to Rocjean, 
with the air of a man about to ask a hard conundrum, "why 
beards, long hair, and art, always go together ? " 

" Of course, art draws out beards along with talent. 
Paints and bristles must go together ; but high art drives the 
hair of the head in, and clinches it. Among artists, first and 
last, there have been men with giant minds, and they have 
known it was their duty to show their mental power : the 
beard is the index." 



158 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

^^ But the beard points downward/' suggested Caper, " and 
not upward," 

" That depends " 

^' On pomade Hongroise — or beeswax," interrupted Caper. 

" Exactly ; but let me answer Uncle Bill. To begin, we 
may safely assert that an artist's life — here in Eome, for 
instance — is about as independent a one as society will toler- 
ate. Its laws, as to shaving especially, he ignores ; and, caring 
very little for the Rules of the Toilette, as duly published by 
the hon ton journals, uses his razor for mending lead pencils, 
and permits his beard to enjoy long vacation rambles. Again : 
those who first set the example of long beards, Leonardo da 
Vinci, for example, who painted his own portrait with a full 
beard a foot long, were men who moved from principle ; and I 
have the belief, that were Leonardo alive to-day, he would 
say : 

^^ My son, and well-beloved Rocjean, zitto ! and let me 
talk. Know, then, that I did permit my beard luxuriant 
length — for a reason. Thou dost not know, but I do, that 
among the ancient Egyptians they worshipped in their deity 
the male and female principle combined ; so the exponents of 
this belief, the Egyptian priests, endeavored in their attire ta 
show a mingling of the male and female sex ; they wore long 
garments, like women, vergogna I they wore long hair, guai I 
and they shaved their faces I It pains me to say, that their 
indecent example is followed even to this day, by the priests 
of what should be a purer and better religion. 

^^ Silenzio I I have not yet said my say. Among Eastern 
nations, their proverbs, and, what is better, their customs, show 
a powerful protest against this impure old faith. You have 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 159 

seen the flowing beards of the Mohammedans, especially the 
Turks, and their short-shaved heads of hair, and you may have 
heard of their words of wisdom : 

" * Long hair, little brain.' 

" And that eloquent sentence : 

" * Who has no beard, has no authority.' 

" They have other sayings, which I cannot approve of; for 
instance : 

^^ ^ Do not buy a red-haired person ; do not sell one either. 
If you have any in the house, drive them away.' 

" I say I do not approve of this, for the majority of the 
English have red heads; and people who want to buy my 
pictures I never would drive out of my house, mai I " 

*' Come," said Caper, ^' Leonardo no longer speaks, when 
there is a question of buying or selling. Assume the first 
person." 

"Another excellent reason for artists in Rome to wear 
beards is, that where their foreign names cannot be pro- 
nounced, they are often called by the size, color, or shape of 
this face drapery. This is particularly the case in the Cafe 
Greco, where the waiters, who have to charge for coffee, &c., 
when the artist does not happen to have the change about him, 
are compelled to give him a name on their books, and in more 
than one instance, I know that they are called from their 
beards. I have a memorandum of these nicknames : I am 
called Barlone^ or Big-bearded ; and you. Caper, are down as 
Sharhato Inglese^ The Shaved Englishman." 

'' H'm ! " spoke Caper ; " I an't an Englishman, and I 
don't shave ; my beard has to come yet." 

" What is my name ? " asked Uncle Bill. 



160 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

*^ Paga Sempre^ or He Pays Always. A countryman of 
mine is called Baffi Rici^ or Big Moustache ; another one, Bar- 
hetta^ Little Beard; another, Barhdccia^ Shabby Beard; an- 
other, Barla Nera^ Black Beard; and, of course, there is a 
Barha Rossa^ or Ked Beard. Some of the other names are 
funny enough, and would by no means please their owners. 
There is Zoppo Francese, The Lame Frenchman ; Scapiglione, 
the Rowdy ; Pappagallo^ the Parrot ; Milordo ; Furioso ; and 
one friend of ours is known, whenever he forgets to pay two 
laiocchi for his coffee, as San Pietro I " 

" Well," said Uncle Bill, '' I'll tell you why I thought you 
artists wore long beards : that when you were hard up, and 
couldn't buy brushes, you might have the material ready to 
make your own." 

*^ You're wrong, uncle," remarked Caper. ""When we 
can't buy them, we get trusted for them — that's our way of 
having a brush with the enemy." 

" That will do, Jim, that will do ; say no more. None of 
the artists' beards here can compare with one belonging to a 
buffalo-and-prairie painter who lives out in St. Louis. It is so 
long, he ties the ends together, and uses it for a bootjack. 
Good night, boys ! good night ! " 

Rocjean was finishing his after-dinner-ical coffee and cigar, 
when, looking up from Las Novedades^ containing the latest 
news from Madrid, and in which he had just read en Roma es 
donde hay mas mendigos- — Rome, is where most beggars are^ 
found ; London, where most engineers, lost women, and rat 
terriers abound ; Brussels, where women who smoke are all 
round — ^looking up from this interesting reading, he saw oppo- 



AMERICAIJ^S IK ROME. 161 

site him a young man, whose acquaintance, he knew at a 
glance, was worth making. Refinement, common sense, and 
energy were to be read plainly in his face. When he left the 
cafe, Eocjean asked an artist with long hair, who was fast 
smoking himself to the color of the descendants of Ham, if 
he knew the man ? " 

" No-o-oo ; I believe he's some kind of a calico painter." 

"What?" 

" Oh ! a feller that makes designs for a calico mill." 

Not long afterward Rocjean was introduced to him, and 
found him, as first impressions taught him he would, a man 
well worth knowing. He was making a holiday visit to 
Rome, his settled residence being in Paris, where his occupa- 
tion was designer of patterns for a large calico mill in the 
United States. A New-Yorker by birth, consequently more 
of a cosmopolitan than the provincial life of our other Ameri- 
can cities will tolerate or can create in their children, Charles 
Gordon was every inch a man, and a bitter foe to every liar 
and thief. He was well informed, for he had, as a boy, been 
solidly instructed ; he was polite, refined, for he had been well 
educated. His life was a story often told : mercantile parent, 
very wealthy ; son sent to college ; talent for art, developed 
at the expense of trigonometry and morning prayers ; mercan- 
tile parent fails, and falls from Fifth Avenue to Brooklyn, pre- 
paratory to embarking for the land of those who have failed 
and fallen — wherever that is. Son wears long hair, and be- 
lieves he looks like the painter who was killed by a baker's 
daughter, writes trashy verses about a man who was wronged, 
and went off and howled himself to a long repose, sick of this 
vale of tears, et cetera. Finally, in the midst of his despair, 



162 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

long hair, bad poetry and painting, an enterprising friend, who 
sees he has an eye for color, its harmonies and contrasts, raises 
him with a strong hand into the clear atmosphere of exertion for 
a useful and definite end — makes him a ^' calico painter." 

It was a great scandal for the Bohemians of art to find this 
calico painter received everywhere in refined and intelligent 
society, while they, with all their airs, long hairs, and shares 
of impudence, could not enter — they, the creators of Medoras, 
Magdalens, Our Ladies of Lorette, Brigands' Brides, Madame 
not In, Captive Knights, Mandoline Players, Grecian Mothers, 
Love in Repose, Love in Sadness, Moonlight on the "Waves, 
Last Tears, Resignation, Broken Lutes, Dutch Flutes, and 
other mock-sentimental-titled paintings. 

^^ God save me from being a gazelle ! " said the monkey. 

^^ God save us from being utility calico painters I " cried 
the highminded, dirty cavaliers who were not cavaliers, as they 
once more rolled over in their smokehouse. 

*^In 1854," said Gordon, one day, to Rocjean, after their 
acquaintance had ripened into friendship, ^^ I was indeed in sad 
circumstances, and was passing through a phase of life when 
bad tobacco, acting on an empty stomach, gave me a glimpse 
of the Land of the Grumblers. One long year, and all that 
was changed ; then I woke up to reality and practical life in a 
* calico mill ; ' then I wrote the lines you have asked me about. 
Take them for what they are worth. 

REDIYIYUS. 

MDCCCLVI. 

He sat in a garret in Fifty-four, 

To welcome Fifty-five : 
* God knows/ said he, * if another year 
Will find this rnan alive. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 163 

I was bom for love, I live in song, 

Yet loveless and songless I'm passing along, 

And the world ? — Hurrah ! 

Great soul, sing on I ' 

He sat in the dark, in Fifty-four, 
To welcome Fifty-five : 

* God knows,* said he, * if another year 

I'll any better thrive. 
I was born for light, I live in the sun, 
Yet in darkness, and sunless, I'm passing on, 

And the world ? — Hurrah ! 

Great soul, shine on ! ' 

He sat in the cold, in Fifty-four, 
To welcome Fifty-five : 

* God knows,' said he, * I'm fond of fire, 

From warinth great joy derive. 
I was born warm-hearted, and oh ! it's wrong 
For them all to coldly pass along : 

And the world ? — Hurrah ! 

Great soul, burn on ! ' 

He sat in a home, in Fifty-five, 
To welcome Fifty-six : 

* Throw open the doors ! ' he cried aloud, 

* To all whom Fortune kicks ! 
I was born for love, I was born for song, 
And great-hearted men my halls shall throng. 

And the world ? — Hurrah ! 

Great soul, sing on ! ' 

He sat in bright light, in Fifty-five, 
To welcome Fifty-six : 

* More lights ! ' he cried out, with joyous shout ; 

' Night ne'er with day should mix. 



164 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

I was born for light, I live in the sun, 
In the joy of others my life's begun. 
And the world ? — Hurrah ! 
Great soul, shine on ! ' 

He sat in great warmth, in Fifty-five, 

To welcome Fifty-six, 
In a glad and merry company 

Of brave, true-hearted Bricks ! 
' I was born for warmth, I was born for love, 
IVe found them all, thank God above ! 
And the world ?— Ah ! bah ! 
Great soul, move on I ' 

The Eoman season was nearly over : travellers were mak- 
ing preparations to fly out ^f one gate as the malaria should 
enter by the other ; for, according to popular report, this fear- 
ful disease enters the last day of April, at midnight, and is in 
full possession of the city on the first day of May. Eocjean, 
not having any fears of it, was preparing not only to meet it, 
but to go out and spend the summer with it. It costs some- 
thing, however, to keep company with La Malaria, and our 
artist had but little money : he must sell some paintings. 
Now it was unfortunate for him, that though a good painter, 
he was a bad salesman ; he never kept a list of all the arrivals 
of his wealthy countrymen, or other strangers who bought 
paintings ; he never ran after them, laid them under obliga- 
tions with drinks, dinners, and drives ; for he had neither the 
inclination nor that capital which is so important for a picture 
merchant to possess in order to drive — a heavy trade, and 
achieve success — such as it is. Rocjean had friends, and warm 
ones ; so that, whenever they judged his finances were in an 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 165 

embarrassed state, tliej voluntarily sent wealthy sensible as 
well as wealthy insensible patrons of art to his aid, the latter 
going as Dutch galliots laden with doubloons might go to the 
relief of a poor, graceful felucca, thrown on her beam ends by 
a squall. 

One morning there glowed in Rocjean's studio the portly 
forms of Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Shodd, together with the tall, 
fragile figure of Miss Tillie Shodd, daughter and heiress- 
apparent and transparent. Rocjean welcomed them as he 
would have manna in the desert, for he judged, by the air and 
manner of the head of the family, that he was on picture buy- 
ing bent. He even gayly smiled, when Miss Shodd, pointing 
out to her father, with her parasol, some beauty in a painting 
on the easel, ran its point along the canvas, causing a green 
streak from the top of a stone pine to extend from the tree 
some miles into the distant mountains of the Abruzzi — the 
paint was not dry ! 

She made several hysterical shouts of horror after commit- 
ting this little act, and then seating herself in an arm-chair, 
proceeded to take a mental inventory of the articles of furni- 
ture in the studio. 

Mr. Shodd explained to Rocjean that he was a plain man : 

This was apparent at sight. 

That he was an uneducated man : 

This asserted itself to the eyes and ears. 

After which self-denial, he commenced "pumping" the 
artist on various subjects, assuming an ignorance of things 
which, to a casual observer, made him appear like a fool ; to a 
thoughtful person, a knave : the whole done in order, perhaps, 
to learn about some trifle which a plain, straight-forward ques- 



16(> AMERICANS IN ROME. 

tion would have elicited at once. Rocjean saw his man, and 
led him a fearful gallop in order to thoroughly examine his 
action and style. 

Spite of his commercial life, Mr. Shodd had found time to 
" self-educate " himself — he meant self-instruct ; and having a 
retentive memory, and a not always strict regard for truth, was 
looked up to by the humble ignorant as a very columbiad in 
argument, the only fault to be found with which gun was, that 
when it was drawn from its quiescent state into action, its effec- 
tive force was comparatively nothing, one half the charge 
escaping through the large touchhole of untruth. Discipline 
was entirely wanting in Mr. Shodd's composition. A man 
who undertakes to be his own teacher, rarely punishes his 
scholar, rarely checks him with rules and practice, or accus- 
toms him to order and subordination. Mr. Shodd, therefore, 
was — undisciplined : a raw recruit, not a soldier. 

Of course, his conversation was all contradictory. In one 
breath, on the self-abnegation principle, he would say : "I 
don't know anything about paintings ; " in the next breath, his 
overweening egotism would make him loudly proclaim : " There 
ne\^er was but one painter in this world, and his name is Hock- 
skins ; he lives in my town, and he knows more than any of 
your ^ old masters ' ! I ought to know ! " Or : " J am an 
uneducated man," meaning uninstructed ; immediately follow- 
ing it with the assertion : *^ All teachers, scholars, and colleges 
are useless folly, and all education is worthless, except self- 
education." 

Unfortunately, self-education is too often only education of 
self! 

After carefully examining all Rocjean's pictures, he settled 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 167 

his attention on a sunset view over the Campagna, leaving 
Mrs. Shodd to talk with our artist. You have seen — all have 
seen — more than one Mrs. Shodd ; by nature and innate refine- 
ment, ladies; (the ''Little Dorrits" Dickens shows to his 
beloved countrymen, to prove to them that not all nobility is 
nobly born — a very mild lesson, which they refuse to regard ;) 
Mrs. Shodds who, married to Mr. Shodds, pass a life of silent 
protest against brutal words and boorish actions. With but 
few opportunities to add acquirable graces to natural ease and 
self-possession, there was that in her kindly tone of voice and 
gentle manner winning the heart of a gentleman to respect her 
as he would his mother. It was her mission to atone for her 
husband's sins, and she fulfilled her duty ; more could not be 
asked of her, for his sins were many. The daughter was a 
copy of the father, in crinoline ; taking to affectation — which 
is vulgarity in its most offensive form — as a duck takes to 
water. Even her dress was marked, not by that neatness 
which shows refinement, but by precision, w^hich in dress is 
vulgar. One glance, and you saw the woman who in another 
age would have thrown her glove to the tiger for her lover to 
pick up ! 

Among Eocjean's paintings was the portrait of a very 
beautiful woman, made by him years before, when he first 
became an artist, and long before he had been induced to aban- 
don portrait painting for landscape. It was never shown to 
studio visitors, and was placed with its face against the wall, 
behind other paintings. In moving one of these to place it in 
a good light on the easel, it fell, with the others, to the floor, 
face uppermost; and while Eocjean, with a painting in his 
hands, could not stoop at once to replace it. Miss Shodd's sharp 



168 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

eyes discovered the beautiful face, and, her curiosity being 
excited, nothing would do but it must be placed on the easel. 
Unwilling to refuse a request from the daughter of a patron 
of Art in perspective, Eocjean complied, and, when the por- 
trait was placed, glancing toward Mrs. Shodd, had the satisfac- 
* tion of reading in her eyes true admiration for the startlingly 
lovely face looking out so womanly from the canvas. 

" H'm ! " said Shodd the father ; " quite a fancy head." 

" Oh ! it is an exact portrait of Julia Ting. If she had 
sat for her likeness, it couldn't have been better. I must have 
the painting, pa, for JuHa's sake. I must It's a naughty 
word, isn't it, Mr. Eocjean ? but it's so expressive ! " 

*' Unfortunately, the portrait is not for sale. I placed it on 
the easel only in order not to refuse your request." 

-Mr. Shodd saw the road open to an argument. He was in 
ecstasy ; a long argument — an argument full of churlish flings 
and boorish slurs, which he fondly believed passed for polished 
satire and keen irony. He did not know Eocjean ; he never 
could know a man like him ; he never could learn the truth, 
that confidence will overpower strength; only at last, when 
through his hide and bristles entered the flashing steel, did he, 
tottering backward, open his eyes to the fact that he had found 
his master — that, too, in a poor devil of an artist. 

The landscapes were all thrown aside ; Shodd must have 
that portrait. His daughter had set her heart on having it, he 
said, and could a gentleman refuse a lady anything ? 

^^ It is on this very account I refuse to part with it," an- 
swered Eocjean. 

It instantly penetrated Shodd's head that all this refusal 
was only design on the part of the artist to obtain a higher 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 169 

price for the work than he could otherwise hope for ; and so, 
with what he beheved was a masterstroke of pohcy, he at 
once ceased importuning the artist, and shortly departed from 
the studio, preceding his wife with his daughter on his arm, 
leaving the consoler, and by all means his best half, to atone, 
by a few kind words at parting with the artist, for her hus- 
band's sins. 

^^And there," thought Rocjean, as the door closed, *^goes 
'a patron of art' — and by no means the worst pattern. I 
hope he will meet with Chapin, and buy an Orphan and an 
Enterprise statue ; once in his house, they will prove to every 
observant man the owner's taste." 

Mr. Shodd, having a point to gain, went about it with ele- 
phantine grace and dexterity. The portrait he had seen at 
Rocjean's studio he was determined to have. He invited the 
artist to dine with him — the artist sent his regrets ; to accom- 
pany him, "with the ladies," in his carriage to Tivoli — the 
artist politely declined the invitation; to a conversazione^ the 
invitation from Mrs. Shodd — a previous engagement prevented 
the artist's acceptance. 

Mr, Shodd changed his tactics. He discovered at his bank- 
er's, one day, a keen, communicative, wiry, shrewd, &c., &c., 
enterprising, &c., " made-a-hundred-thousand-dollars " sort of a 
little man, named Briggs, who was travelling in order to travel, 
and grumble. Mr. Shodd " came the ignorant game " over 
this Briggs ; pumped him, without obtaining any information, 
and finally turned the conversation on artists, denouncing the 
entire body as a set of the keenest swindlers, and citing the 
instance of one he knew who had a painting which he believed 
it would be impossible for any man to buy, simply because the 
8 



170 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

artist, knowing that he (Shodd) wished it, would not set 
a price on it, so as to have a very high one offered. (!) 
Mr. Briggs instantly was deeply interested. Here was a 
chance for him to display before Shodd of Shoddsville his 
shrewdness, keenness, and so forth. He volunteered to buy 
the painting. 

In Rome, an artist's studio may be his castle, or it may be 
an Exchange. To have it the first, you must affix a notice to 
your studio door, announcing that all entrance of visitors to 
the studio is forbidden except on, say Monday, from twelve m. 
to three p. m. This is the baronial manner. But the artist 
who is not wealthy, or has not made a name, must keep an 
Exchange, and receive all visitors who choose to come, at 
almost any hours — model hours excepted. So Briggs, learning 
from Shodd, by careful cross-questioning, the artist's name, 
address, and a description of the painting, walked there at 
once, introduced himself to Eocjean, shook his hand as if it 
were the handle of a pump upon which he had serious inten- 
tions, and then began examining the paintings. He looked at 
them all, but there was no portrait. He asked Rocjean if he 
painted portraits ; he found out that he did not. Finally, he 
told the artist that he had heard some one say — he did not 
remember who — that he had seen a very pretty head in his 
studio, and asked Rocjean if he would show it to him. 

" You have seen Mr. Shodd lately, I should think ? " said 
the artist, looking into the eyes of Mr. Briggs. 

A suggestion of a clean brickbat passed under a sheet of 
yellow tissue-paper was observable in the hard cheeks of Mr. 
Briggs, that being the final remnant of all appearance of mod- 
esty left in the sharp man, in the shape of a blush. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. I7l 

" Oh ! yes ; everybody knows Shodd j man of great talent 
— generous," said Briggs. 

" Mr. Shodd may be very well known," remarked Rocjean,- 
measuredly, " but the portrait he saw is not well known ; he 
and his family are the only ones who have seen it. Perhaps it 
may save you trouble to know, that the portrait I have several 
times refused to sell him, will never be sold while I Hve. The 
common opinion that an artist, like a Jew, will sell the old clo' 
from his back for money, is erroneous." 

Mr^Briggs shortly after this left the studio, sHghtly at a 
discount, and as if he had been measured, as he said to him- 
self; and then and there determined to say nothing to Shodd 
about his failing in his mission to the savage artist. But 
Shodd found it all out in the first conversation he made with 
Briggs ; and very bitter were his feelings when he learned that 
a poor devil of an artist dared possess anything he could not 
buy, and, moreover, had a quiet moral strength which the vul- 
gar man feared. In his anger, Shodd, with his disregard for 
truth, commenced a fearful series of attacks against the artist, 
regaling every one he dared to with with the coarsest slanders, 
in the vilest language, against the painter's character. A very 
few days sufficed to circulate them, so that they reached Roc- 
jean's ears ; a very few minutes passed before the artist pre- 
sented himself to the eyes of Shodd, and, fortunately finding 
him alone, told him, in four words, " You are a slanderer ; " 
mentioning to him, besides, that if he ever uttered another 
slander against his name, he should compel him to give' him 
instantaneous satisfaction, and that, as an American, Shodd 
knew what that meant. 

It is needless to say, that a liar and slanderer is a coward ; 



172 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

consequently Mr. Shodd, with the consequences before his eyes, 
never again alluded to Rocjean, and shortly left the city for 
Naples, to bestow the light of his countenance there in his 
great character of Art Patron. 

• ** It is a heart-touching face," said Caper, as, one morning, 
while hauling over his paintings, Rocjean brought the portrait 
to light which the cunning Shodd had so longed to possess for 
cupidity's sake. 

*' I should feel as if I had thrown Psyche to the Gnomes to 
be torn to pieces, if I had given such a face to Shodd. If I 
had sold it to him, I should have been degraded ; for the 
women loved by man should be kept sacred in memory. She 
was a girl I knew in Prague, and, I think, with six or eight 
exceptions, the loveliest one I ever met. Some night, at sun- 
set, I shall walk over the old bridge, and meet her as we 
parted ; d ^ropos of which meeting, I once wrote some words. 
Hand me that portfoho, will you ? Thank you. Oh ! yes ; 
here they are. Now, read them. Caper ; out with them I 

ANEZKA OD PRAHA. 

Years, weary years, since on the Moldau bridge, 
By the five stars and cross of Nepomuk, 
I kissed the scarlet sunset from her lips : 
Anezka, fair Bohemian, thou wert there ! 

Dark waves beneath the bridge were running fast, 
In haste to bathe the shining rocks, whence rose 
Tier over tier, the gleaming domes and spires, 
Turrets and minarets of the Holy City, 
Its crown the Hradschin of Bohemia's kings. 
O'er Wysscherad we saw the great stars shine ; 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 173 

We felt the night wind on the rushing stream ; 
We drank the air as if 'twere Melnick wine, 
And every draught whirled us still nearer Nebe : 
Anezka, fair Bohemian, thou wert there ! 

Why ever gleam thy black eyes sadly on me ? 
Why ever rings thy sweet voice in my ear ? 
Why looks thy pale face from the drifting foam 
Dashed by the wild sea on this distant shore — 
Or from the white clouds does it beckon me ? 

My own heart answers : On the Moldau bridge, 
Anezka, we will meet to part no more. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

If a man's mind and purse were in. such state that he 
didn't care where he went, and was able to go there ; if the 
weather was fine, and the aforesaid man could eat, drink, and 
sleep rough, and really loved picturesqueness in all his sur- 
roundings for its own sake — that man should travel by vettura. 
Not one of. the vetture advertised by a Eoman *Ho go to all 
parts of the world ; " not one of those travelhng carriages with 
a seat for milady's maid and milord's man, with courier beside 
the driver, and a vettura dog on top of the baggage, at the 
very sight of which beggars spring from the ground as if by 
magic, and the custom house officers assume airs of state. No, 
no, NO ! What is meant by a vettura^ is a broken-down car- 
riage, seats inside for four English or six Italians, a seat outside, 
along with the driver, for one American or three Itahans, and 
places to liold on to, for two or three more Italians. The har- 
ness of the horses consists of an originally leather harness, with 
rope commentaries, string emendations, twine notes, and rag- 
ged explanations of the primary work; in plain English, it's 
an edition of harness with nearly all the original leather expur- 
gated. 

Well, you enter into agreement with the compeller of 
horses, alias vetturino^ to go to a certain town a certain dis- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 175 

tance from Rome. The veliicle lie drives is popularly reported 
to leave regularly for that town ; you know that regularly 
means regularly -uncertainly. You go and see the vetturino^ 
say in that classic spot, the Yvdzzd^. Pollajuolo ; you find him, 
after endless inquiries, in a short jacket, in a wineshop, smok- 
ing a throat-scorcher of a short pipe, and you arrange with him 
as regards the fare, for he has different prices for different peo- 
ple. Little children and soldiers pay half price, as you will 
read on your railroad ticket to Frascati, and priests pay what 
they please, foreigners all that can be squeezed out of them, 
and Italians at fixed price. 

As for the horses that drag this vettura. Old ! I hope 
the crows will spare them one day longer. The long-suffering 
traveller pauses here, reader, wipes the dust from his brow, and 
exclaims : 

** Blessed be bull fights ; for they use up that class of 
horses which in pious America drag oysters to their graves, 
and in Papal Italy drag the natives to their lairs outside of 
Rome ! '' 

You will toil along the dusty plain — hot, weary, worn out 
— ^but anon you begin the ascent of the mountains ; then, as 
you go up, the air grows purer and cooler. You descend from 
the vettura^ and on foot tramp up the road, perhaps beside the 
driver, who is innately thankful to you for saving his horses a 
heavy pull ; and with him, or a fellow traveller, joke off the 
weary feeling you had in the low grounds. Again you are 
ascending a still steeper part of the mountain. Now oxen 
are attached to the old rumbling rattletrap of a carriage, and 
it is creah^ pull, yell, and cheer, until you find yourself above 
the clouds — serene and calm — away from dust, heat, turmoil. 



176 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

bustle, in an old locanda^ in a shaded room, a flask of cool red 
wine before you, the south wind rustling the leaves in the lat- 
tice, the bell of the old Franciscan convent sending its clear 
silver notes away over valley and mountain from its sleepy old 
home under the chestnut trees, the crowing of cocks away 
down the mountain, the hum of bees in the flower garden 
under the window — the blessed, holy calm of the country ! 

It is the end aimed at that makes vettura travelling jolly ; 
for it can well be imagined, as an Englishman justly said of it : 
"It is just as good a vehicle to go to the gallows in, as any 
I've ever been in, I'm sure." But it is equally certain, that 
the quiet joys revealed to the man who travels by it — always 
ba it understood, the man who don't care where he goes, or 
when he gets there — are many. These quiet joys consist of 
exquisite paintings, sketches, scenes, landscapes, or whatever 
else you choose to call them, wherein shrines, ostenas or tav- 
erns, locandas or inns ; costumes ; shadow of grand old trees ; 
the old Roman stone sarcophagus turned into a water trough, 
into which falls the fountain, and where the tired horses thrust 
their dusty muzzles, drawing up water with a ratthng noise, 
while the south wind plays through the trees, and they switch 
the flies from their flanks with their tails ; the old priest, ac- 
costed by the three small boys — '^ they are asking his bless- 
ing," said Miss Hicks — "they are asking him for a pinch of 
snufi*," said Caper — and when she saw him produce his snuff- 
box, she acquiesced ; the winecarts instead of swillcarts ; the 
Italian peasants instead of Paddies ; agriculture instead of com- 
merce ; churches and monasteries in place of cotton mills ; 
Roman watch towers instead of factory chimneys ; trees in- 
stead of board yards ; vineyards ^and olive groves in place of 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 177 

blue grass and persimmon trees; golden oranges in place of 
crab apples and choke pears ; zigarri scelti instead of Cabanas 
— but this is the reverse of the medal ; let us stop before we 
ruin our first position. 

It was warm in Rome. The English had fled. The 
Romans, pure blood, once more wandered toward sunset — not 
after it — on the Pincian Hill, and trod with solid step the 
gravel of II Pincio Liberato. In the Spanish square around 
the fountain called Barcaccia, the lemonaders are encamped ; 
a hint of lemon, a supposition of sugar, a certainty of water — 
what more can one expect for a laioccho f From midday until 
three o'clock in the afternoon, scarcely a place of business, 
store or shop, is open in Rome. The inhabitants are sleeping, 
clad as Monsieur Dubufe conceived the original Paradisians 
should be clad. At sunset, as you turn down the Via Con- 
dotti, you see chairs and tables placed outside the Cafe Greco 
for its frequenters. The interior rooms are too, too close. 
Even that penetralia, the "Omnibus," cannot compare with the 
unwalled room outside, with its star-gemmed ceiling, and the 
cool breeze eddying away the cigar smoke * so its usual occu- 
pants are all outside. 

At one of these tables sat Caper, Rocjean, and their mutual 
friend. Dexter — an animal-painter — the three in council, dis- 
cussing the question, '^ Where shall we go this summer ? " 
Rocjean strongly advocated the cause of a little town in the 
Volscian mountains, called Segni, assuring his friends that two 
artists of the French Academy had discovered it the summer 
before. 

"And they told me," he said, "that they would have hved 
there until this time, if they had had it in their power. Not 
8* 



178 AMEKICAKS IN ROME. 

that the scenery around there was any better, if so good, as at 
Subiaco, or even Gennezzano ; but the wine was very cheap, 
and the cost of boarding at the locanda was only forty haiocchi 
a day " 

" We will go ! we will go ! " chimed in Caper. 

^' There were festivals in some of the neighboring towns 
nearly every week, and costumes " 

^' Let us travel there," said Caper, ^' at once ! " 

" Horses were to be had for a song " 

^' I am ready to sing," remarked Dexter. 

"There was good shooting; heccajichi, woodcock, and 
quails ; also red-legged partridges " 

"Say no more," spoke Caper, "but let us secure seats 
in the next stage that starts for such game scenes — im- 
mediately ! " 

Matters were so well arranged by Eocjean, that three days 
after the above conversation, the three artists, with passports 
properly vised, were waiting, toward sunset, in the Piazza 
Pollajuolo, for the time not advertised, but spoken of, by the 
vetturino Francesco as his hour for starting for Segni. 

Our trio entered the piazza (every house in the envi- 
rons of it being gayly decked outside with flying pennants, 
banners, standards, flags, in the shape of long shirts, short 
shirts, sheets, and stockings, hanging out to dry). They en- 
tered the house, resembling a henhouse, where the vettura was 
reposing, and commenced a rigid examination of the old 
vehicle, which looked guilty and treacherous enough to have 
committed all kinds of breakdowns and upsets in its day. 
While they were thus engaged, the driver and an assistant 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 179 

mounted to the top, and made fast the baggage, covering it all 
with a rough reed matting, and tying it carefully on with cords 
except a large-sized basket, which they let fall, striking Caper 
on one side of the head as it descended. 

^^ Accidente P\ yelled two voices from the top of the car- 
riage. ^^ Santa Maria ! Madonna mia ! it isn't anything, 
merely a bread basket ! " cried Francesco, who, delighted to 
find out he had not killed his passenger, and so lost a scudo. at 
once harnessed in three horses abreast to the vettura^ inter- 
spersing his performance with enough oaths and vulgarity to 
have lasted a small family of economical contadme for a week. 
One of his team, a mare named Filomena, he seemed to be 
particularly down on. She was evidently not of a sensitive 
disposition, or she might have revenged sundry defamations of 
her character with her heels. As it was, she only whinnied, 
and playfully took off the driver's cap with her teeth, lifting a 
few liairs with it. 

'^ Signora diavola 1 " said Francesco, addressing the mare, 
and grabbing his cap from her teeth ; ^' this is an insult — an 
insult to ME ! EecoUect that — when you are going up the 
mountain ! '^ 

" Come, Francesco, come ! " said Rocjean ; '' it's time to 
be off." 

^^ Ecco me qua^ Signore ; have patience a little minute (^2C- 
colo momento\ and then, whew ! but we'll fly ! " 

The trio were anxious to get off, for every now and then, 
from some third or fourth story window, down would come 
w^aste water thus emptied into the street, and they were fearful 
that they might be deluged. 

*^ Jump inside," said Francesco, when he had the old vet- 



180 AMERICANS IN HOME. 

tura fairly in the street ; ^^ then you may laugh at the cascades 
of PoUajuolo, seguro I '' 

Creaky hang ! rumble^ rattle I off they went, and were 
fairly under way, at last, for Segni. They passed out of Eome 
by the Porta San Giovanni, where their passports received a 
visto ; and this being finished, again started, the vettura soon 
reaching the Campagna. It looked a fair and winning scene, 
as they saw far away its broad fields of ripe "^heat swayed by 
the wind, and nodding all golden in the setting sun ; herds of 
horses feeding on the bright green grass ; the large gray oxen, 
black eyed and branching horned, following the mandarina, or 
leading ox, with his tinkling bell; the ruined aqueducts and 
Eoman tombs ; the distant mountains robed in purple mist ; 
the blue-clothed contadini returning homeward. Yet this was 
where the malaria raged. As the road, after an hour's drive, 
gradually ascending, carried them into a purer and clearer air, 
and they felt its freshness invigorating mind and body, there 
broke out a merry spirit of fun with our trio, as, descending 
from the carriage, they walked up the steepest part of the 
ascent, laughing and joking, or stopping to note the glories of 
sunset over Rome, above which hung the dome of St. Peter's, 
grand in the golden haze. 

They reached Colonna while the west was still flaming 
away, and found the red wine there cool, if nothing better, as 
they drank it by the fountain under the old trees. Then they 
mounted the vettura refreshed, and pushed on in the shadow 
of evening, under a long avenue of trees, and late into the 
night, until they reached Valmontone ; and they knew, by the 
tinkling of mule bells, and the hoarse shouts of their drivers, 
with the barking of dogs, and the bars of bright hght shooting 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 181 

through darkness from doors and windows, that the Osteria e 
Locanda was near, and supper not far off. The vettura 
stopped. 

Descendmg, they entered the large hall of the inn, with its 
whitewashed walls and brick floor, its ceiling heavy with 
rough-hewn rafters, and its long wooden tables and rough 
benches stained nearly black by use. By the oil lights burn- 
ing in the graceful long-stemmed Roman lamps, they saw three 
or four countrymen eating eggs fried with olive oil in little 
earthenware pipkins — a highly popular dish in the country 
round Rome, since, by proper management, a great deal of 
bread, which is not very dear, can be consumed with a few 
eggs. One of the number was luxuriating in agrodolce — meat 
stewed with preserved prunes or cherries — a dish which many 
travellers have laughed at in Germany, but have never ob- 
served in ^' classic Italy." 

^^ E che voIetCj Signorif^^ from the once white-aproned 
waiter, aroused our artists to a sense of duty ; and fried ham, 
eggs, bread, and wine, with a salad, were ordered, slowly 
brought, and ham and eggs quickly finished and again fur- 
nished, much to the astonishment of a family of peasants who 
had entered while they were eating, and who watched the 
plates of ham and eggs disappear as if it were a feat of jug- 
glery. After supper came coffee and cigars, and the sight of 
one of the soldiers of the patrol, who came in to have a glass 
of samhucaj his blue uniform in good condition, his carbine 
brightly shining. After the horses were well rested, the vet- 
tura again started, as the first faint light of day shone in the 
east. About two miles from Valmontone, they commenced 
the ascent of the mountains, and shortly had two oxen attached . 



182 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

to help drag their vehicle upward. The road wound along a 
mountain side — a ravine far below them — and from its base 
arose a high conical mountain opposite to them, as they slowly 
toiled upward. Again and again they pulled through heavy 
clouds of mist hanging around the mountain side, emerging 
above them only again to enter others. Finally it cleared ; 
and over the mountains, beyond the valley yet white with the 
morning dews, they saw the red sun rise clear and sparkling ; 
while high above their heads, perched on mountain top and 
side, loomed out the old, gray, timeworn walls of Segni. The 
vettura came to a halt under the shade of some old mulberry 
trees, and our travellers descended, to leave it where it was, for 
the town was not built with a view to the entrance of car- 
riages. 

Leaving the vettura^ they mounted the steep road, seeing 
above them the ruined walls, once the ramparts of the town, 
crowned by gray old houses with tiled roofs rising one over the 
other, and soon entered the Maggiore Gate, with its round 
arch, its architecture noting a time when Segni was not quite 
the unknown place it now is. As they entered the gate, see- 
ing the cleanly dressed country people seated on the stone 
benches under its shadow — ^the women with their blue woollen 
shawls formed into coifs falling over head and shoulders, loose 
and pendent white linen sleeves, and black woollen bodices 
tightly laced, calico or woollen skirts, and dark-blue woollen 
aprons with broad bands of yellow or red ; while the men 
wore blue knee breeches, brown woollen stockings, and blue 
jackets, with here and there a short scarlet waistcoat, and all 
with black conical felt hats, sometimes ornamented with a 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 183 

flower — ^noting all this, our artists knew it was Sunday, or a 
festival. It was both. 

The main street was very narrow — the houses so close to- 
gether that a donkey loaded with brushwood could hardly 
scrape through — and so steep that he had hard work to get a 
foothold on the smooth, worn stones serving to pave it. The 
buildings were all of that sombre gray stone so picturesque in 
paintings, and so pleasant for the eye to rest on, yet withal 
suggesting no brilliant ideas of cleanliness, or even neatness. 
The houses were rarely over two stories in height, the majority 
only one story, and but very few of them boasted glazed win- 
dow frames, board shutters letting in hght or keeping out rain. 
Two twists through the narrow streets, or rather alleys, a right- 
angled turn, a wheel to the left, then straight forward thirty 
steps, and lo ! they were in the inn, alias locanda^ of Gaetano. 
As soon as rooms could be given them, our artists, spite of its 
being dayhght, took a long nap, induced by travelling all night 
without sleep. 

About noon, the landlord, Gaetano, aroused them with the 
fact that dinner was ready. They made a hearty meal, the 
landlord being careful to wish them ^^ good appetite " before 
they commenced. When it was over, and they were about to 
rise and go forth to discover if there was a cafe in the town, 
the waiter girl appeared with two large dishes, on one of which 
were green peas in the pod, and on the other goat's-milk 
cheese. 

"I know what the cheese is for," said Caper; "but it 
seems to me an odd way, to send in peas for the guests to shell 
for them." 

"Perhaps," said Dexter, "as they've no opera house here, 
it's one of their amusements." 



184 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

*^ Can you tell me," asked Eocjean of the stout waiter girl, 
" what we are to do with those peas ? " 

^' Eh ? "Why, Signor, they are the fruit. You eat them.'^ 

^' Pods and all?" 

^' Certainly ; they are very sweet and tender." 

'' No, thank you. You can take them away. Will you 
send the padrone here ? " 

In came the landlord, and then and there a bargain was 
struck. For forty cents a day, he agreed to give them individ- 
ually : 

First : Breakfast — consisting of eggs, bread, butter, fruit in 
season, one dish of meat, a pint of good wine, and a cup of 
coffee. 

Second : Dinner — soup^ boiled meat, roast meat, vegeta- 
bles, bread, butter, fish occasionally, one pint of wine, salad, 
dessert. 

Third : Supper — one dish of meat, bread, butter, salad, and 
pint of wine. 

Fourth : A bedchamber for each one, with the use of the 
main room. 

It was moreover agreed and covenanted, that for the extra 
sum of two haiocchi each one, he would provide a cup of coffee 
and sugar after dinner. 

This is the Italian mode of proceeding; and when you 
have done thus, you will rarely find any trouble, either in 
receiving what you have agreed for, or in being overcharged. 
Justice to Gaetano Colajamo, keeper of the locanda at Segni, 
demands that it should be here witnessed that he faithfully and 
truly kept the agreement thus made ; that, after six months 
spent with him by Caper, he found that Gaetano had acted 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 185 

fairly, squarely, honestly, and manfully with him, from the day 
of his arrival until he shook hands at parting. May his tribe 
increase ! 

Leaving the hotel, they found a cafe near the Maggiore 
Gate, and learned that coffee was to be had there only on Sun- 
days and festivals, the demand for it on other days being so 
small that it would not pay to make it. After coffee, Caper 
proposed a ramble up town ; and the trio sallied out, succeed- 
ing, by dint of perseverance, and digging their heels firmly in 
the pavement, in climbing up the main street, which was about 
ten feet wide, and very steep, an angle of forty-five degrees 
about describing its inclination ; and as it was paved with lime- 
stone cubes, worn smooth by the iron shoes of clambering 
horses and donkeys, it was difficult at times to prevent slipping. 
The irregularity of the front of the houses, and their evident 
want of repairs — in fact, their general tumble-down look, re- 
lieved here and there by a handsome middle-age doorway or 
window on the first floor, while the second story would show a 
confused modern wall of rubble work and poverty-stricken 
style of architecture generally ; all these contrasts brought out 
the picturesque element in force. As they passed a row of 
iron-grated windows, a rough, hairy hand was thrust nearly 
into Eocjean's face, with the request that he would bestow a 
haioccho for charity on the owner. 

^^ "What are you doing in there ? " asked Dexter. 

*^ Nothing, nothing. Santa Maria ! I am an innocent man. 
I never did anything ; I never will do anything so long as I 
live.'' 

^' That's the reason they shut you up, perhaps. You are 
lazy, an't you ? " 



186 AMERICANS IN HOME. 

^^ Never. It's because I've been too active. So, Signor, 
give me a few haiocchi^ for I am tired of being shut up in this 
old bottle ; and if they will let me out, I will marry her to- 
morrow." 

So Rocjean gave him a few laiocchi, asking Caper what he 
thought of this plan of allowing jail-birds to sit and sing to 
every one who passed by, permitting the inmates of the prison 
to converse with and entertain their friends ? 

They had hardly passed the prison, before three horses, 
sleekly curried, and with ribbons tied to their manes and tails, 
were led past them. And in answer to a question from Dex- 
ter, he learned that they were being led down to the stretch of 
road at the foot of the town, the spur connecting the conical 
mountain on which Segni is built, with the Volscian mountains 
in its rear. This road was about a quarter of a mile in length, 
quite level, and lined on both sides with fine old elm trees, giv- 
ing goodly shade. It was used as a race-course, and the three 
horses were going down to run a Camera^ or race. Four 
horses were to run barebacked, their riders being well used to 
dispense with saddles, and managing to guide them with a rope 
halter in lieu of a bridle. The purse was four scudi (four dol- 
lars). Two horses were to run at a time, and the race was 
then to be run off by the two winning horses. 

Anxious to conform to the customs of the country, includ- 
ing Sabbath quarter-races, our three artists retraced their steps, 
and, descending the main street, were soon outside the gate of 
the town. Selecting a good position in the shade where they 
could see the race to advantage, they quietly waited for the 
races to begin. At the firing of a gun, down the course came 
two flying bay horses, ridden by boys, who urged them on to 



AMEKICAJSrS IN ROME, 187 

top speed, accelerated bj the shouts of the entire population. 
The smallest horse won that heat. Again the gun was fired ; 
and now the two other horses, a dark bay and a black, came 
thundering along, the black going ahead by four lengths, and 
receiving shouts of applause, as II Diavolo Benissimo I Now 
came the real pull, for the two winners were to try off; and as 
the last gun sounded, C latter ^ whiz I the small bay and the 
black horse fairly flew by, neck and neck. Unfortunately, the 
black bolteil from the course before he reached the goal, and 
the last seen of him he was somewhere on top of a hill, 
with his legs white with lime, which he had picked up darting 
through a mortar bed where a house was building. The bay 
horse, Mortadella^ ridden by a boy named Bruno, won this 
Sunday quarter race ; and though the horse was not timed, it is 
safe to say the time was good, taking into account the fact that 
on week days he brought wood down the mountain on his back, 
and consequently had that pecuhar corkscrew motion incident 
to his profession. 

The race over. Caper proposed their once more ascending 
the main street, and making a bold endeavor to discover the 
top of the town, from which he argued there must be a fine 
view. Sturdily mounting up, they found themselves at last on 
the summit of the mountain, and, passing several houses, an 
academy, and a church, found before them a pleasant walk 
called the Pianillo, which was the crown of the conical moun- 
tain, and from whence, looking over the valley below and 
around them, they saw far off the Albanian mountains to their 
front and left, while away to their right hand, and fading into 
the clouds, the chain of the Abruzzi showed them the confines 
of Naples. From this walk they saw the mountains and 



188 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

towns of San Germano, Santo Padre di Regno, L'Arnara, Fro- 
sinone, Torrice, Monte San Giovanni, Yeroli, Ferentino, Mo- 
rino, Agnani, Acuto, Piglio, Serrone, Paliano, Roviate, Civi- 
tella, Olevano, San Yito, Capranica, Gennazzano, Cave, Pales 
trina, Valmontone, Montefortino, Lugnano, Zagarolo, Colonna, 
Rocca Priora, and the neighboring towns of Sgurgola, Gorga, 
and Gavignano, with that lovely valley, La Villamagna. 

Lost in admiration of the splendid panorama before them, 
our artists were not at first aware that the Pianillo was fast fill- 
ing up with the people who had lately attended the horse race : 
believing they were attracted here by the lovely scenery, they 
only admired their good taste, when Rocjean, overhearing two 
of the Segnians, discovered that they came there to enjoy a 
very different spectacle — that of La Giostra del PorchettOj or 

SMALL-HOG GAME. 

"What this might be, our artists had yet to learn. It sounded 
slightly sensual for a Sunday amusement, but as there was a 
bishop in the town, and nothing could consequently be permit- 
ted that would shock, &c., &c.. Caper, Rocjean, and Dexter at 
once agreed to assist the heads of the Church in their pious 
endeavors to celebrate the day — as the Romans do. Not far 
from where they were standing, at the foot of wild rocks and 
the ruins of an old Roman watch tower, was a curious basin 
cut in the solid rock, its sides lined with large blocks, and its 
circular form preserved entire ; its depth was from five to seven 
feet, and its bottom was, like the sides, paved with smooth 
blocks. It was popularly said to have been anciently a cistern, 
a fish tank, &c., but nothing was known definitely as to its 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 189 

original purpose. It now served for the circus, where the 
Small-Hog Game was annually indulged in. 

About twenty-two o'clock (that is, six in the afternoon), 
the audience and spectators — for it was an audible as well as 
visible entertainment — being assembled, and desirous for the 
performance to commence, whistled and shouted slightly, but 
not indecorously ; for the grand army of the town — seven gen- 
darmes — ^were around. Our three artists mounted up the rocks 
overhanging the cistern, and looked down on the heads of the 
people. They saw a thousand or two female heads, mostly 
with light hair, all pulled directly back from the forehead, 
twisted into a knot behind, and tied with a piece of string, 
while a silver bodkin a foot in length, run in sideways, held it 
tight. The heads of these silver hairpins indicated the married 
or unmarried state of the wearers ; the former were fashioned 
as acorns or flower buds, while the latter were full-blown flow- 
ers with expanded petals. The faces of these women were 
tanned, but ruddy health was there, and robust forms ; and you 
saw among them all a very happy, contented, ignorant look, 
showing a satisfied condition of heart, without endless longings 
for the unattainable and dim— they always had "the dim" 
about them in the ^hape of the one-horse lamps of the country, 
a saucer of oil, with a piece of twine hanging over the edge 
for a wick. By the way, the Acadiens on Bayou la Fourche, 
in Louisiana, have the same '' lampion '' hght ! 

The dress of these women was plain, but strong and ser- 
viceable. "White shirts in full .folds covered neck and bosom, 
the sleeves hanging from the shoulder in large folds, a bodice 
of dark-blue cloth was laced tightly around their waists, while 
skirts, generally of dark-blue cloth, hung in heavy lines to. 
their ankles. 



190 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

The men, assembled there to the number of about two 
thousand, were accoutred in blue cloth jackets (which rarely 
have the owners' arms in the sleeve, but are worn as cloaks), 
red waistcoats of ^startlingly crimson color, and blue small- 
clothes, while conical black felt hats, adorned here and there 
with flowers, served for head coverings. A large assemblage 
of children, dressed and undressed, filled up the gaps. 

Suddenly, Bang, Bangity Bang ! a row of small mortars 
were fired off in succession, and a small boy, with a banner 
in his hands, and an Irish pennant in his wake, appeared march- 
ing slowly along. On the banner was a painting of a small 
black hog between two men, each armed with brooms, who 
seemed bent on sweeping it out of existence ; over these were 
the words : 

GIOSTRA DEL PORCHETTO. 

Then came six contadini^ young men, and stout, each armed 
with a broom three or four feet in length, made of rushes tied 
together, resembling our birch brooms without their handles. 
They entered the arena or cistern, and then, each one throwing 
aside his hat, had a large linen bag, coming to a point at the 
top, tied over his head and throat, so that it was impossible for 
him to see. On each of these bags a comical face was roughly 
painted. To the right leg of each man a cowbell was tied. 
With their brooms swinging a preparatory flourish, the six 
stood ready to commence the game. The small hog was then 
turned into the cistern, announcing his presence by sundry 
squeals. Now the gam*e fairly begins : Whish ! sound the 
brooms as they are whisked here, there, everywhere, in 
attempts to strike the hog ; one man, giving a strong blow, 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 191 

strikes another one, who was stooping down to arrange his gar- 
ters, where he dishkes to be struck, and instantly the one 
struck runs a muck, hitting wildly right and left. Two or 
three men charge on one another, and brooms fly in splinters 
all round. One champion got a head blow, and had his wind 
knocked out by another blow simultaneously. Eound they go, 
and at it they go, beating the air and each other, while the 
wreath of honor, alias small hog, keeps turning up his head, 
calculating the chances, and making fierce rushes every time 
he sees a broom approaching him. He must have practised in 
the game before, he manages so well to avoid being hit. The 
six men, being unable to hit the hog, grew angry ; and one of 
them, unmindful of the fact that his smallclothes had burst 
open at the knee, and his stockings were around his shoes, ter- 
ribly batters another combatant, who strives in vain to dodge 
him. Then the six shouted truce, and, pulling off their caps, 
declared that the small hog must have the bell tied to him also, 
so that, like a beacon (or bacon), he might warn the cruisers 
of his whereabouts. This arranged, and the caps again being 
tied on, they recommence the game with renewed spirit. One 
man ignobly raised his helmet, alias nosebag, to see where the 
small hog was keeping himself, and then made a rush for him, 
whereupon one of the three umpires, a very lean man, with 
nervous twitches, rushed at the man in a great state of excite- 
ment, and collared him amid the disapproving shouts of the 
spectators ; he let him go upon this, and the other two umpires, 
who were fat men, jumping into the cistern to take away their 
lean brother, received several violent blows on the road, finally 
leading away the thin man, in a high state of twitches, com- 
municating themselves to his stovepipe hat (only one on the 



192 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

ground), and to a large cane he tried to hold. A lucky blow 
from one of the gamesters struck the hog, and there was a ces- 
sation of hitting, interrupted by an outside contadino of the 
tight-built style breaking through the gendarmes and umpires, 
and jumping into the middle of the cistern, beginning a fearful 
battle of words with the man who hit the hog, interrupted, 
however, by two of the gendarmes, who collared him, and led 
him off up the steps, his legs very stiff, his body at an angle 
of forty-five degrees, and his head turned round to give a few 
last fierce words to the hog hitter. The man would have made 
a good bandit, on canvas, with his bronzed, bearded face, flash- 
ing eyes, conical hat, savage features, broad shirt collar, red 
sash around his waist, and leather gaiters, showing he rode 
horses, and came from down in the plain. 

The game recommenced, and, by good luck, the broom 
swinger who hit the hog the first blow, hit him twice more ; 
and the regulation being, that whoever first struck the hog 
three blows should win him, the successful hog hunter bore off 
the small hog on his back, having at the same time to carry 
the standard above described. The cheers of beauty and ugli- 
ness accompanied the hog and standard bearer, as, jerking 
down his head, the umpire pulled off his headbag, showing the 
face of Bruno, the butcher, who kept a bulldog. A great 
many friends surrounded him, patting him on the back — he had 
a hog to he eaten ! 

So ended the Game of the Small Hog. 

After this was all over, a Tombola came off in front of the 
church ; and our three artists, having purchased tickets, for this 
Sunday lottery, in order to keep the day as the rest of the 
people did, and not render themselves liable to the censure of 



AMERICANS IN HOME. 193 

being eccentric, had an opportunity of seeing its beneficial 
working — for those who got it up ! 

The Tombola finished, there was a good display of fire- 
works. In the still night air of the Sabbath, the fiery snakes 
and red serpents, blue fires and green, darting flames and 
forked lights, reminded our artists of a large painting over the 
Maggiore Gate of the town, where a lot of the condemned are 
expiring in a very vermilion-colored Inferno — condemned, per- 
haps, for Sabbath breaking ! 

Eeturning to their inn to supper, the landlord handed them 
a note without address, which he said had been sent them by 
the Gonfaloniere of the city, who had called upon them as soon 
as he learned that they were strangers there. Caper, opening 
the envelope, found in it the following printed invitation to 
attend a concert to be given that night at the Palazzo Comu- 
nale, in honor of the day : 

" IL GONFALONIERE 

"DELLA CITTA' DI SEGNI 

**Invita li sigi. Rocjean, Caper e Dexter ad intervenire alP Accademia 
di Musica che si terra nella Sala del Palazzo Comunale il giorno 18 Luglio 
alle ore 9J pom. per festeggiare la ricorrenza del Protettore S. Bruno." 

*'It sounds well," said Dexter; ^' but both of you have 
seen the tumbledown, ruined look of the old town, or city, as 
they call it ; and the inhabitants, as far as I have seen them, 
don't indicate a very select audience for the concert." 

" Select audience be hanged I It's this very selectness that 
is no selectness — that makes your English, and a part of our 
American society, a dreary bore," broke in Caper. *'IVe 
9 



194 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

come up here in the mountains to be free ; and if the Gonfalo- 
niere bids me welcome to a palace where the nohilitd await me, 
with music, I shall not ask whether they are select or not, 
but go." 

" I think," spoke Eocjean, *' we should go ; it will be the 
easiest way to acknowledge the attention shown us, and prob- 
ably the pleasantest to the one who sent it. I am going." 

It therefore came to pass, that near the hour noted in the 
invitation, Rocjean and Caper, inquiring the direction to the 
Palazzo Comunale of the landlord, went forth to discover its 
whereabouts, leaving Dexter to hunt scorpions in the sitting 
room of the inn, or study the stars from its balcony. 

Climbing up the main street, now quite dark save where 
the lamp of a stray shrine or two feebly lit up a few feet 
around it, they soon found the palace, the lower story of which 
held the postoffice, and various other offices. After passing a 
gendarme on guard at the door, they found themselves in a not 
very light hall leading to the second story. Mounting a flight 
of stairs, there stood another soldier on guard. A door sud- 
denly was thrown open, and then a burst of light showed them 
a large hall with lofty ceilings, the walls hung with red and 
golden tapestry, and, with its rich mediaeval groined arches and 
gilded cornices, resembling, after all the ruins and decay of the 
town, a castle hall in fairy land, rather than a positively real 
earthly room. Dazzled by the brilliance of the scene, Rocjean 
and Caper were standing near the door of entrance, when a 
tall, stout, and very handsome man, leaving a circle of ladies, 
at once approached them, and introducing himself as the Gon- 
faloniere of the city, with much courtesy showed them to seats 
amono: the *'most reserved of the reserved." There sat the 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 195 

Bishop of the Commune in purple silk robes, with an inch-wide 
golden chain over his breast, animatedly conversing with a 
dashing Roman lady, startlingly handsome, with solitaire dia- 
mond earrings flashing light, while the lace on her dress would 
have caused deaths of envy in one of our country villages. 
The Governor of the Province was there, a quiet, grave gentle- 
man, earnest enough in his duties to be respected, and evi- 
dently a favorite with several ladies who also shone in dia- 
monds, and with the " air noble " so much adored by Dexter. 
A warlike-looking priest, who Caper afterward found out w^as 
the chaplain of a regiment of soldiers, and by no means afraid 
of grape juice, was also there ; and with numerous distin- 
guished men and beautiful women, including one or two of the 
Stelle d^Anagnij or Stars of Anagni, as the nobility of that 
town are called, made, with their rich dresses and courteous 
manners, such a picture — so startlingly in contrast with the 
outdoor life that our artists had seen, that they have never for- 
gotten it to this day. The concert for which the invitation was 
given soon commenced. The selection of vocal and instrumen- 
tal pieces was made with good judgment ; and the singers, who 
came from Rome, and had been selected for their ability, sang 
with a skill and grace that proved they knew that their audi- 
ence had nice judgment and critical ears. 

The concert was over : and having made their acknowledg- 
ments to the Gonfaloniere for the pleasure they had received 
through his invitation, our two artists, lighting cigars, walked 
up to the Pianillo, where the rising moon gave them a splendid 
view of the Campagna, and mountain-bounded horizon. Thus 
ended their first day in Segni, and their first Sunday in the 
Campagna. 



190 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

The sickles were flashing in the sunHght, feUing the ripened 
wheat in the valley, when our three artists, having previously 
arranged the matter with a certain Segnian named Bruno, 
stood one morning early, waiting his appearance with horses, 
to carry them down the mountain to a farm belonging to 
Prince Doria, called the Piombinara. There they were going 
to see a tnglia^ or threshing of wheat with horses. 

*'Here he comes," said Caper, ^' with a piebald horse and 
a bay mare and an iron-gray mule. Let's toss up for a 
choice." 

The mule fell to Caper. Mounting him gayly, and caUing 
to the others to follow, he led the way with their guide down 
the steep street of the town until they reached the road outside 
of the gate, when, the others coming up, the party ambled 
along down the mountain road. In about an hour they reached 
the plain, and fifteen minutes more brought them to the old, 
ivy covered, ruined fortress of the middle ages, called the 
Piombinara. Passing this, they soon reached an open field, in 
the centre of which, near a small cabin, they found quite a 
number of harvesters engaged piling up sheaves of wheat in 
a circle on a spot of ground previously levelled and hardened 
until it presented a surface as even as a barn floor. 

While they were inquiring of the harvesters as to the time 
when the threshing would commence, a fine-looking man, 
mounted on a fiery, full-blooded chestnut horse, rode up, and, 
politely saluting the three artists, inquired of them if they were 
not desirous of seeing the triglia, 

Rocjean answered that it was for that purpose they had 
come there, having learned in Segni that the horses would 
begin the threshing that morning. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 197 

The horseman then introduced himself as Prince Doria's 
agent for the Piombinara and farmer of the estate, and gave 
them a warm welcome ; being very glad, 'he said, that the 
triglia would not begin until the afternoon, since he hoped it 
would give him, in the mean time, the pleasure of showing 
them the estate, and extending the rough hospitality of the 
Campagna to them. 

Our artists, acknowledging his politeness, accepted the in- 
vitation of Signor Ercole, as he was generally called, and, upon 
his proposing a ride around the estate, accompanied him. They 
first visited the old ruin, riding in through what was formerly 
its main entrance. Once inside, they found the lower walls 
sufficiently entire to give them an idea of the size and form of 
the old fortress. At one end they found the ruins of a small 
chapel, where even yet the traces of fresco painting could be 
seen on its walls ; near this arose a tall, square tower, ivy clad 
to its very summit, from whence a flock of hawks were flying 
in and out. The lightning had so shattered its walls, that it 
threatened every moment to fall ; yet in this dilapidated state 
it had remained for years, and was regarded, therefore, as an 
^'un-tumbling" curiosity. After some time spent here, which 
Dexter improved by making a pencil sketch of the valley and 
adjacent mountains, Signor Ercole leading the way, they rode 
through a small wood, where herds on herds of black hogs 
were feeding, to the pasture grounds, where the brood mares 
and colts of the prince were seen grazing together. Over a 
hundred head of the purest blood stock were here ; and Dex- 
ter, who was thoroughly conversant with- horseflesh, passed 
the highest encomiums of praise on many of the animals. 
Riding on, they next saw quite a number of oxen ; but the 



198 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

superintendent informed them that these were only a few kept 
to perform the farm work, the large herds belonging to the 
estate being at this season of the year driven miles away to 
feed upon other lands of the prince. Continuing their ride, the 
party next came to the wheatfields, extending far and wide, 
like those of Illinois, for a hundred acres or more. Here the 
harvesters, most of whom were from the Abruzzi, were busily 
engaged, men and women, in loading the large carts with 
wheatsheafs, the grain being all cut, and consequently many of 
the laborers having returned to their distant homes. Return- 
ing from the fields, Signor Ercole now invited them to enter 
the farmhouse. This was a very large stone house, white- 
washed, looking, as they approached it, more like a garrison 
for several regiments than a residence for a few famihes and a 
storehouse for agricultural implements and crops. The lower 
floor of this long building was taken up with stables and 
offices ; but mounting a wide stone -staircase, our artists found 
themselves in a large room scrupulously neat, with white- 
washed walls, very high ceilings, and whips, guns, dogs, tables, 
account books, stone floors, and rough seats, making a curious 
mingling of monastery, gquire's office, sportsman's chamber, 
and social hall ; for no sooner had Bignor Ercole seen his guests 
comfortably seated, than his servant brought in cigars, with a 
brass dish of hve coals to light them, several bottles of wine, 
and one of capital old Sambuca di Napoli — a liquor that is 
refreshing, drank, as it should be, with a good allowance of 
water. 

Dinner was served at an early hour, with a profusion of 
each dish that would have frightened an economical Yankee 
housewife. Six roast chickens were not considered at all too 



AMERICANS IN HOME. 199 

many for the five persons at table — the fifth being a jolly old 
gentleman, an uncle to the Signor Ercole. The plate of mac- 
caroni looked as if Gargantua had ordered it — the salad might 
have been put in a bushel measure, the bread been carried in a 
donkey cart, and the wine — ahem ! in the expressive lan- 
guage of the Celts, there was '^ lashings of it." 

But even a Campagna dinner with a Farmer-General will 
have an end ; and when our friends had finished theirs, they 
arose and went dreamily forth to the before-mentioned squire's 
office, where they Hghted cigars, while they drank small cups 
of black coffee, and gazed out of the open windows to the dis- 
tant mountains, rising far above the plain sleeping in the sum- 
mer sun, and hushed to sleep by the unceasing song of the 
cicalas sharply crying from leaf and blade of grass. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon, a man came to inform 
the Signor Ercole that the mares and colts had been driven into 
the corral, and our party accordingly walked out to see them 
lassoed prior to their performance in the ring. As they ap- 
proached the corral, they saw the blooded animals circling 
around the inclosure, apparently aware that they would soon 
be called on to do some work — the only work, in fact, the ma- 
jority of them had to do the whole year through. Taking a 
lasso from one of the men, Signor Ercole entered the inclosure, 
and singling out a fine-looking bay mare, he threw the lasso — 
the noose encircling her neck as she dashed forward, bringing 
her up all standing. Satisfied with this performance, he 
handed her over to one of the herdsmen, who, fastening her 
with a halter, again and again swung the lasso, catching at last 
twelve horses and mares. One long halter was now attached 
to six of the animals, and a driver, taking it in hand, led them 



200 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

toward the spot where the beaten earth was covered with 
sheaves of wheat standing on end one against the other in a 
circle of say thirty or forty feet in diameter ; another driver, 
fastening six others, horses and mares, to another long halter, 
led them to the side opposite the first six. As soon as they 
were stationed, waving long-lashed whips, plunge ! ahead went 
the wild horses, jumping into the wheatsheaves breast high, 
rearing, squealing, kicking, lashing out their hoofs, their eyes 
starting from their heads, while each driver stood firm in one 
spot, whirling his whip-lash, and keeping his team within a 
circle one half of which was in the wheat, and the other half 
outside. Thus there were three circles — one of wheat, and 
the other two described by the horses as they dashed wildly 
around, the drivers shouting, the wheat flying, and being 
quickly threshed under the swift-moving hoofs of the twelve 
four-legged flails ! 

Caper and Dexter were meanwhile as busy as they could 
be sketching the scene before them, and endeavoring to catch 
notes of the first plunges and excited motions of the horses. 
The active motive-power of the foreground finished, with a 
hasty sketch of the Piombinara at the right hand, in the middle 
ground the Campagna, with its cornfields and ruined towers, 
while in the distance the Lepini mountains stretched away into 
cloudland — all afforded a sketch from which both Caper and 
Dexter afterward made two very excellent paintings. 

The sketches finished, Signor Ercole insisted upon the 
artists taking a stirrup cup with him before they left for Segni ; 
and accordingly, accompanying him to the house, they drank 
success to their hospitable entertainer, and departed highly 
pleased with this Representative Man. It is his class — the 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 201 

intelligent producers of the Papal States — to whom we must 
look for all the life that will keep that wornout old body suf- 
ficientlj animated to last until Regenerated Italy can take it in 
hand, see it decently buried, and over its tomb achieve a bril- 
liant future. 

Segni might well boast of her hogs and donkeys. As the 
sun rose, a wild-looking fellow stood by the Maggiore Gate, 
and blew on a long horn many rough blasts ; then from all the 
streets and alleys rushed out black hogs tumultuously, to the 
number of one hundred or more, and followed their pastor with 
the horn to the field or forest. There he guarded them all 
day, and at sunset brought them back to the town ; when, as 
soon as they reached the gate, the herd separated, and right 
and left, at top speed, every hog hastened to his own house. 
Poor as the inhabitants were, yet among the five thousand of 
them living in the town, besides countless black hogs, they 
owned over two hundred and fifty donkeys and mules, the ma- 
jority donkeys of the longest-eared, smallest-body breed you 
can conceive. Costing little, if anything, to support them, 
they were excellent labor-saving machines, and did three quar- 
ters of the work that in our country would have been done by 
hod and wheelbarrow labor. Very surefooted, they were well 
calculated for travelHng the mountain roads around ; and with 
their enormous saddles, a direct copy of those now used in 
Egypt, of course attracted the attention of the two animal- 
painters, who determined to secure a good specimen, and make 
a sketch of donkey and saddle. 

The most comical-looking one in the town belonged to a 
cross, ill-tempered, ugly brute of a hunchback, who, as soon as 



202 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

he learned that the artists wanted to paint him, asked such a 
price for his loan, that they found themselves obliged to give 
up all hopes of taking his portrait. One morning, as Caper 
was walking out of the inn door, he nearly tumbled over a 
little, sunburnt, diminutive donkey that had a saddle on his 
back, resembling, with this on him, a broken-backed rabbit. 
Caper was charmed ; and, as he stood there lost in admiration, 
a poor little lame boy came limping up, and, catching Long 
Ears by the rope halter, was leading him away, when the artist 
stopped him, and asked him whom it belonged to. The small 
boy, probably not understanding Caper, or afraid of him, made 
no answer, but resolutely pulled away the donkey to a gate- 
way leading into a garden, at the end of which was a half- 
ruined old house. Our artist followed him in, when, raising his 
eyes toward the house, he saw leaning from one of the win- 
dows, her figure marked boldly against the dark gray of the 
house, a strikingly beautiful woman. There was an air of neat- 
ness in her dress, a certain care of her hair, that was an im- 
provement over any of the other female Segnians he had yet 
seen. 

"Can you tell me," said Caper, pointing to the donkey, 
" who owns that animal ? " 

^^ Padrone mio^ I own him," said the woman. 

" I want to paint him." 

^^ Do you?" repHed the beauty, whose name Caper learned 
was Margarita ; and she asked this with a very astonished look. 

" I do, indeed I do. It will not hurt him." 

" No, I don't believe it will. He is very ugly and sun- 
burnt. I think it will improve him," said Margarita, confi- 
dently. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 203 

Caper didn't see how the mere taking his portrait would 
improve the animal ; but thinking it might be meant for a 
compliment, he assented, adding that he would pay a fair price 
for himself and his friend to be allowed to have the donkey, all 
saddled, for two or three hours every day when he was not 
used. 

That very day, about four o'clock in the afternoon, Caper 
and Dexter, having prepared their sketching paper, with colors 
on pallet, mallsticks in hand, and seated on camp stools in the 
shade of a wall, were busy sketching, in Margarita's garden, 
the donkey, held by the little lame boy, and fed from time to 
time with cornmeal in order to keep him steady. Margarita 
was seated, with a little child in her arms, on a flight of old 
wooden steps leading to the second story of her house ; and 
with her bright crimson bodice, and white faUing linen 
sleeves, and shirt gathered in folds over her bosom, while her 
dark-blue skirts, and dark apron with brilliant gold and red 
stripes, were draped around her as she sat on the stairs, looked 
exactly like one of Eaphael's Madonne alia Fornarina, Her 
large eyes followed seriously every moment of the painters. 
Caper, learning that she was a widow, did not know but what 
her affections were straying his way. 

'^ I say. Dexter, don't you think, now, she's regarding us 
pretty closely ? " 

" I am sure it's the donkey is next her heart, and it is more 
than probable she's there on watch to keep us from stealing it. 
D'ye notice the manner she's eying the paints ? Every time 
my brush goes near the vermilion, and I move my stool, her 
eyes brighten. I wonder what's up around the gate there ? 
Hanged if half the old women and children around town aren't 
assembled there ! Look." 



204 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Caper looked, and, sure enough, there was a crowd of 
heads ; and, not content with standing at the gateway, they 
began soon to enter the garden, crowding around our two 
artists, getting in front of the donkey, and being generally in 
the way. 

Once or twice Dexter drove them off with words, until, at 
last, an unlucky urchin striking his elbow and making him mar 
his sketch, he laid down his sketching box, and, clubbing his 
camp stool, made a rush at the crowd. They fled before him, 
in their hurry tumbling one over the other, and then, scram- 
bling to their feet, were soon out of sight. Eeturning to his 
sketch, he was no sooner busily at work than they were all 
back again, but now keeping at respectful distance. 

After about two hours' work. Caper proposed knocking off 
sketching, and continuing it next day ; to which Dexter assent- 
ing, they put up their sketches. Caper agreeing to pay Mar- 
garita for the afternoon's study, he went up to her, and hand- 
ing over the amount agreed upon, she seemed by no means 
satisfied. 

" Won't that pay you ? " asked he. 

" Certainly, but " 

** But what?" 

** "When are you going to paint the donkey ? Here I've 
told all my friends that you were to paint the little old fellow 
all over, perhaps a nice red color, or bright yellow ; and here 
we've all been waiting hours to see you begin, and you haven't 
put the first brush to him yet ! " 

This was too much for the gravity of Caper, who fairly 
roared with laughter ; and Dexter, who had listened to the 
talk^ joining in as chorus, made the garden ring. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 205 

" They are crazj," said one old woman, who was holdmg a 
distaff in one hand, while she was making woollen thread with 
the other. 

" Eh^ Gidj^ said another, who had once been to Rome, and 
therefore was great authority, ^' they are Englis', and all the 
Englis* is crazy. Didn't I once live with an Englis' family ? 
and they were that mad that they washed themselyes every 
day I And they had white sticks with hair on the end of 
them, what they scrubbed their mouth and teeth with two and 
three times a day I '^ 

^^ Now, Maricuccia, that is too much ; what could they do 
that for ? " 

*^ Ma che ! I tell you it was so ; and their maid told me it 
was to kill the little devils that are always jumping in and out 
of the throats of all heretics." 

" Santa Maria ! '^ 

The next day, after they had finished their sketch of the 
donkey, Caper proposed that they should obhge Margarita by 
giving the donkey a little of that painting the owner seemed so 
anxious to have bestowed on him. Dexter accordingly drew 
bright yellow circles of cadmium and yellow ochre round his 
eyes, giving him a peculiarly owly look ; painted white rings 
round his tail, black streaks round his body, and touched the 
ends of his ears with vermilion. A more striking looking 
object you never saw ; and when Margarita proudly led him 
forth and showed him to the surrounding multitude, there were 
storms of applause for the Inghse who painted donkeys I 



CHAPTEE IX. 

It was a warm day in October when Caper engaged rooms 
in the Babuino. The sun shone cheerfully, and he took no 
heed of the cold weather to come : in fact, he entertained the 
popular idea, that the land half-way between the tropics and 
paradise, called Italy, stood in no need of pokers and coal 
hods. He was mistaken. Awaking one morning to the fact 
that it was cold, he began an examination of his rooms for a 
fireplace ; there was none. He searched for a chimney — in 
vain. He went to see his landlady about it. She was stand- 
ing on a balcony, superintending the engineering of a bucket 
in its downward search for water. The house was ^ve stories 
high, and from each story what appeared to be a lightning rod 
ran down into what seemed to be a well, in a small garden. 
Up and down these rods, tin buckets, fastened to ropes, were 
continually running, rattling, clanking down, or being drawn 
splashing, dripping up ; and as they were worked assiduously, 
it made lively music for those dwelling in the back part of the 
house. 

Having mentioned to the landlady that he wanted a fire, 
the good woman reflected a moment, and then directed the ser- 
vant to haul out a sheet iron vessel mounted on legs. This 
was next filled with charcoal, on which was thrown live coals, 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 207 

and the entire arrangement being placed outside the door on 
the balcony, the servant bent over and fanned it with a turkey 
feather fan. Caper looked on in astonishment. 

*^Are you going to embark in the roast chestnut trade?" 
he asked. 

^^ Ma die I " answered madame ; '^ that is your fire." 

*^ It will bring on asphyxia." 

" We are never asphyxied in Eome with it. You see, the 
girl fans all the venom out of it ; and when she takes it into 
your room, it will be just as harmless as — let me see — as a 
baby without teeth." 

This comparison settled the question, for it proved it 
wouldn^t bite. Caper managed to worry through the cold 
weather with this poor consoler. It gave him headaches, but 
it kept his head otherwise cool, and his feet warm ; and, as he 
lived mostly in his studio, where he had a good wood stove, he 
was no great loser. 

*^ But," said he, descanting on this subject to Eocjean, 
**how can the Romans fight for their firesides, when they 
haven't any ? " 

"They will fight for their scaldine, especially the old 
women and the young women," answered Eocjean, "to the 
last gasp. There is nothing they stick to like these. Even 
their husbands and lovers are not so near and dear to them." 

" What are they ? and how much do they cost ? " asked 
Caper, artistically. 

"Crockery baskets with handles; ten haioccMj^^ rephed 
Eocjean. " You must have noticed them. Why, look out of 
that window ; do you see that girl in the house opposite ? 
She has one on the window sill, under her nose, while her 



208 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

hands are both held over the charcoal fire that is burning in It. 
If there were any proof needed that the idea of a future punish- 
ment by fire did not originate in Rome, the best reply would 
be the bitter hatred the Romans have of cold. I can fancy 
the income of the Church twice as large, if they had only 
thought to have filled purgatory with icebergs, and a corre- 
sponding state of the thermometer. A Roman, in winter time, 
would pay twice as many haioccM for prayers to get a de- 
ceased friend out of the cold, as he could otherwise be induced 
to. The English and other foreigners have, little by Httle, 
induced hotel and boarding house keepers to introduce grates 
and stoves, with good coal and wood fires, wherever they may 
hire lodgings ; but the old Romans still stand by hrasero^s and 
scaldina'sJ^ 

" I caught a bad cold yesterday, thanks to this barbarous 
custom," said Caper. *' 1 was in the Vatican, looking at a 
pretty girl copying a head of Raphael's, and depending on 
imagination and charcoal to warm me : the results were, chills 
and the snuffles.'^ 

" Let that be a warning to you against entering art gal- 
leries during cold weather. To visit the Borghese collection, 
with the thermometer below freezing point, and see all those 
semi-nude paintings, whether of saints or sinners, chills the 
heart ; not only that they have no clothes, but that the artists 
who made the pictures were so radically vulgar — because they 
were affected ! " 

"But," spoke Caper, " they probably painted them in the 
merry spring time, when they had forgotten all about frozen 
fountains and oranges iced ; or, it may be, in their day wood 
was cheaper than it is now, and money plentier." 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 209 

'^Yes, In the days when three million pilgrims visited 
Rome in a year. But would you believe it? within thirty 
miles of this city I have seen enough timber lying rotting on 
the ground, to half warm the Eternal City? The country 
people^ in the commune where I lived one summer, had the 
privilege of gathering wood in the forest that crowns the range 
of mountains backing up from the sea, and separating the Pon- 
tine Marshes from the higher lands of the Campagna : but the 
trunks of the hewn trees, after such light branches as the 
women could hack off were carried away, were left to rot ; for 
there was no way to get them to Rome — an hour^s distance by 
railroad. Cold? The Romans are numbed to the heart. 
Wait until they are warmed up ; wait until they have a chance 
to make money — there will be no poets like Casti in those 
days — Casti, who wrote two hundred sonnets against a man 
w^ho dunned him for — thirty cents ! Talk about knowing 
enough to go into the house when it rains ! Why, the Ro- 
man shopkeepers of the poorer class don't know enough to shut 
their shop doors when they are starved with cold. You will 
find this to be the fact. Look, too, at the poor little children ! 
do they ever think of playing fire engine, and thus warming 
themselves in a wholesome manner ? No ! One day I was 
painting away, when I heard a poor, thin little voice, as of a 
small dinner bell with a croup ; and hoping at last I might see 
the little ones having a good frolic, I went to the window and 
looked out. What did I see ? A small boy with a large, 
tallow-colored head, carrying a large black cross in the pit of 
his stomach ; another small boy ringing a bell ; and five others 
following along, in a crushed, despondent manner — inviting 
other boys to hear the catechism explained in the parish 



210 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

church. Meat for babes ! I don't wonder the Eoman women 
all want to be men, when I see the men without half the spirit 
of the women, and, such as they are, loafing away the winter 
evenings for warmth in wineshops or cafes. Poor Eoman 
women, huddled together in your dark rooms, feebly lighted 
with a poor lamp, and hugging scaldine for better comfort ! 
Would that the American woman could see her Italian sister, 
and bless her stars that she did not live under the cap and 
cross keys." 

'' The cold has one good effect," interrupted Caper ; *' the 
forcible gesticulation of the Itahans, which we all admire so 
much, arises from the necessity they have to do so — in order to 
keep warm. I have, however, an idea to better the condition 
of the wood sawyers in the Papa] States, by introducing a saw 
buck or saw horse. As it is, they hold the wood in their 
hands, putting the saw between their knees, and then fairly 
rubbing the wood through the saw, instead of the saw through 
the wood. How, too, the Romans manage to cut wood with 
such axes as they have, is passing strange. It would be well 
to introduce an American axe here, handle and all." 

*^ We have an old, old saying in France," spoke Rocjean : 

" * Jamais cheval rCy homme 
S^amenda pour aller a Rome,^ 

* Never horse or man mended, that unto Rome wended.' Your 
American axe is useless without American energy, and would 
not, if introduced here, mend the present shiftless style of wood 
chopping. Evidently the people will one day take it up and 
try it — when their minds and arms are free. As it is, the 
genuine Romans live through their winters without wood in a 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 211 

merry kind of humor; taking the charcoal sent them bj 
chance for cooking with great good nature ; and, without 
words, blessing God for giving them vigorous frames and 
sturdy bodies to withstand cold and heat. After all, the want 
of fixed firesides by no manner of means annoys the buxom 
Roman woman of the people : she picks up her moving stove, 
the scaldina, and trots out to see her nearest gossip, knowing 
that her reception will be warm, for she brings warmth with 
her. There is a copy of Galignani, a round of bull beef, and 
a dirty coal fire, even in Rome, for every Englishman who will 
pay for them ; but why, oh why ! forever hoist the banner of 
the Blues over the gay gardens of every earthly paradise ? 
"Why hide Psyche under a hogshead ? " 

*^ Are you asking me those hard questions ? For if you 
are," said Caper, "I will answer you thus: A fishwoman, pass- 
ing along a street in Philadelphia one day, heard from an open 
window the silver-voiced Brignoli practising an aria, possibly 
from the Traviata : ^ That voice,' quoth she, * would be a for- 
tune for a woman in shad time ! * " 

" * It is well to be off with the old love, 
Before you are on with the new : ' " 

hummed James Caper, as he sauntered, one morning early, 
through the dewy grass of the Yilla Borghese, with his uncle, 
Bill Browne, leisurely picking a little bouquet of violets — 
" dim, but sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, or Cytherea's 
breath " — and pleasantly thinking of the pretty face of his last 
love, the blonde Rose, who was at that moment smihng on 
somebody else in Naples. 

*^ There is nothing keeps a man out of miscliief so well as 



212 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

the little portrait a pair of lovely eyes photograph on his 
heart ; is there now, Uncle Bill ? " 

" No, Jim ; you are 'bout right there. If you want to 
keep the devil out of your heart, you must keep an angel in it. 
If you can't find a permanent resident, why, you must take up 
with transient customers. First and last, I've had the pictures 
of half the pretty girls in St. Louis hanging up in my gallery. 
As one grows dim, I take up another, and that's the way I pre- 
serve my youth. If it hadn't been for business, I should have 
been a married man long ago ; and my advice to you, Jim, is 
to stop off being a bachelor the instant you are home again.' ^ 

" I think I shall, the instant I find one with the beauty of 
an Italian, the grace of a French girl, the truth and tenderness 
of a German, the health of an Englishwoman, and " 

^' Draw it mild, my boy," broke in Uncle Bill ; " here she 
comes ! " 

Caper and his uncle were standing, as the latter spoke, 
under the group" of stone pines, from whose feet there was a 
lovely view of the Albanian snow-capped mountains, and they 
saw coming toward them two ladies. There was the freshness 
of the morning in their cheeks ; and though one was older than 
the other, joy-bringing years had passed so kindly with her, 
that if Caper had not known she was the mother of the 
younger lady — they would have passed for sisters. "When he 
first saw them, the latter was gathering a few violets. When 
she rose, he saw the face of all others he most longed to see. 

He had first seen her the life of a gay party at Interlachen ; 
then alone in Florence, with her mother for companion, pa- 
tiently copying the Bella di Tiziano in the Pitti Palace ; then 
in Venice, one sparkling morning, as he stepped from his gon- 



AMERICANS IN HOME. 213 

dola on the marble steps of a church, he met her again : this 
time he had rendered himself of assistance to the mother and 
daughter, in procuring admittance for them to the church, 
which was closed to the public for repairs, and could only be 
seen by an especial permit, which Caper fortunately had ob- 
tained. They were grateful for his attention ; and when, a few 
days afterward, he met them in company with other of his 
American friends, and received a formal introduction, the 
acquaintance proved one of the most delightful he had made in 
Europe, rendering his stay in Venice marked by the rose- 
colored hght of a new love, warming each scene that passed 
before his dreamy gaze. But other cities, other faces : mem- 
ory slept, to awake again with renewed strength at the first 
flash of Hght from the eyes of Ida Buren, there, over the 
spring violets of the Villa Borghese. 

The meeting between Mrs. Buren, her daughter, and Caper, 
was marked, on the part of the ladies, with that cordiality 
which the truly well bred show instinctively to those who merit 
it — to those who, brave and loyal, prove, by word and look, 
that theirs is the right to stand within the circle of true polite- 
ness and courtesy. 

"And so," Mrs. Buren concluded her greeting, *'we are 
here in Rome, picking violets with the dew on them, and wait- 
ing for the nightingales to sing before we leave for Naples." 

"And forget," said Caper, "among the violets of Paestum, 
the poor flowers of the Borghese ? I protest against it, and 
beg to add this little bouquet to yours, that their united per- 
fume may cause you to remember them." 

"I accept them for you, mother," spoke Ida; "and that 
they may not be forgotten, I will make a sketch at once of 



214 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

that fountain under tlie ilex trees, and Mr. Caper, in classic cos- 
tume, making floral offerings to Bacchus — of violets." 

^' And why not to Flora ? " 

" I have yet to learn that Flora has a shrine at — Monte 
Testaccio I where the Signore Caper, if report speaks true, 
often goes and worships." 

"That shrine is abandoned hereafter. Where shall my 
new one be ? " 

*> In the Piazza di Spagna, No. ," said Mrs. Buren, 

smiling at Caper's mournful tone of voice. 

"While the violets bloom, we shall be there. Good 
morning ! " 

The ladies continued their walk, and although, as they 
turned away, Ida dropped a tiny bunch of violets, hidden 
among two leaves. Caper, when he picked it up, did not return 
it to her, but kept it many a day as a souvenir of his fair 
countrywoman. 

" They are," said Uncle Bill, slowly and solemnly, " two 
of the finest specimens of Englishwomen I ever saw, upon me 
word, be gad ! " 

"They are," said Caper, "two of the handsomest Ameri- 
cans I ever met." 

"Americans?" asked Uncle Bill, emphatically. 

" Americans ! " answered Caper, triumphantly. 

" Shut up your paint shop, James, my son ; call in the auc- 
tioneer ; stick up a bill, * To Let.^ Let us return at once to 
the land of our birth. No such attractions exist in this turkey- 
trodden, maccaroni-eating, picture-peddling, stone-cutting, mass- 
singing land of donkeys. Let us go. Americans I " 

" Yes, Americans — Bostonians." 



AMERICANS IN HOME. 215 

^^ Farewell, seventy-five niggers; good-by, my specula- 
tions in Lewsianny cotton planting; depart from behind me, 
sugar crops on Bayou Fooshe ! I am of tliose who want a 
Mrs. Browne, a duplicate of the elderly lady who has just de- 
parted, at any price. James, my son, this morning shalt thou 
breakfast with me at Nazzari's ; and if thou hast not a bully 
old breakfast, it's because the dimes an't in me — and I know 
they are. Nothing short of cream de Boozy frappayed, paddy 
frog grass pie, fill it of beef, and myonhays of puUits, with all 
kinds of saucy sons and so forth, will do for us. "We have 
been among angels— shall we not eat like the elect? For- 
ward ! " 

During breakfast. Caper discoursed at length with his uncle 
of the two ladies they met in the villa. 

Mrs. Buren, left a widow years since, with a large fortune, 
had educated her only child, Ida, systematically, solidly, and 
healthily. The child's mind, vinehke, clings for support to 
something already firm and established, that it may climb up- 
ward in a healthy, natural growth, avoiding the earth ; so the 
daughter had found in her mother a guide toward the clear air 
where there is health and purity. Ida Buren, with clear brown 
eyes, high spirits, rosy cheeks, and full perfected form, at one 
glance revealed the attributes that Uncle Bill had claimed for 
her so quickly. With all the beauty of an Italian, she had her 
perceptions of color and harmony in the violets she gathered ; 
the truth and tenderness of a German, to appreciate their sen- 
timent ; the health of an Englishwoman, to tramp through the 
dewy grass to pick them ; the grace of a Frenchwoman, to 
accept them from Nature with a merci, madame ! 

Caper had now a lovely painting to hang up in his heart. 



216 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

one in unison with the purity and beauty of the violets of the 
Villa Borghese. 

There is lightness and brightness, music, laughter, merry 
jests, masks, bouquets, flying flowers, and confetti around you. 
You are in the Corso, no longer the sober street of a solemn 
old city, but the brilliant scene of a pageant, rivalling your 
dreams of fairy land, excelling them ; for it is fresh, sparkling, 
real before your eyes. From windows and balconies wave in 
the wind all-colored tapestries, flutter red, white, and golden 
draperies; laugh out in festal garments gay revellers; fly 
through the golden sunlight showers of perfumed flowers; 
beam down on you glances from wild, loving eyes, sparkling 
with fun, gleaming with excitement, thrilling with witching 
life. 

Hurrah for to-day ! Fiori, fiori^ ecco fiori ! Baskets of 
flowers, bunches of flowers, bouquets of flowers, flowers natu- 
ral and flowers artificial, flowers tied up and flowers loose. 
Confetti^ confetti J ecco confetti! Sugarplums white, sugar- 
plums blue, bullets and buckshot of limewater and flour. 
"Whiz! down comes the Carnival shower: ^^ Bella donzella, 
this bouquet for thee!" Up go the white camellias and blue 
violets ; ^* down comes a rosebud for me." What wealth of 
lovehness and beauty in thousands of balconies and windows ; 
what sheen of brilliance in the vivid colors of the varied cos- 
tumes ! 

The Carnival has come ! 

Right and left fly flowers ; and here and there dart in be- 
tween wheels and under horses' legs, dirty, daring Roman boys, 
grasping the falling flowers, or confetti. From a balcony, some 



AMEEICANS IN KOME. 217 

wealthy /or65^zero ("Ugli! how rich they are ! " grumbles the 
coachman) scatters haiocchi broadcast, and down in the dirt 
and mud roll and tumble the little ragamuffins, who never have 
muffins, and always have rags — and " spang ! " down comes a 
double handful of hard confetti on Caper's head, as he rides by 
in an open carriage. He bombards the windows with a double 
handful of white buckshot ; but a woman in full Albano cos- 
tume, crimson and white, aims directly at him a beautiful bou- 
quet. Not to be outdone. Caper throws her a still larger one, 
which she catches and keeps — never throwing him the one she 
aimed ! He is sold ! But '' whiz, whir ! " right and left fly 
flowers and confetti; and — oh, joy unspeakable ! — an English- 
man's chimney-pot hat is knocked from his head by a strong 
bouquet ; and we know 

*^' There is a noun in Hebrew means ' I am,' 
The English always use to govern d — n," 

and that he is using it severely, and don't see the fun, you 
know — of throwing things, "Who cares ? Avanti ! 

Caper had filled the carriage with loose flowers, small bou- 
quets, a basket of confetti^ legal and illegal size, for the Carni- 
val-Edict strictly prohibited persons from throwing large-sized 
bouquets and confetti; consequently, everybody considered 
themselves compelled to disdhej the command. Eocjean, who 
was in the carriage with Caper, delighted the Romans with his 
ingenuity in attaching bouquets to the end of a long fish pole, 
and thus gently engineering them to ladies in windows or bal- 
conies. The crowd in the Corso grows larger and larger. 
The scene in this long street resembles a theatre in open air, 
with decorations and actors, assisted by a large supply of infan- 
10 



218 AMERICANS IN EOME. 

try and cavalry soldiers to keep order and attend to the scenes. 
The prosaic shops are no longer shops, but opera boxes, filled 
with actors and actresses instead of spectators, wearing all 
varieties of costume — the Italian ones predominant, gay, 
bright, and beautifully adapted to rich, peachlike complexions. 
"Why call them olive complexions? for all the olives ever 
seen are of the color of a sick green pumpkin, or a too, too 
ripe purple plum; and who has ever yet seen a beautiful 
Italian maiden of either of these morbid colors ? 

The windows and balconies of the Corso are opera boxes. 
" Whiz ! " The flying bouquets and white pills show plainly 
that the prime donne are making their positively first appear- 
ances for the season. Look at that French soldier in company 
with another, who is passing under a balcony, when a tiny 
bunch of flowers falls, or is thrown at him. He stoops to 
grasp it — too late, mon hrave ; a Eoman boy is ahead of you ; 
no use swearing ; so he grasps his comrade by the arm, and 
points to the balcony, which is not more than six feet above 
his head. 

" Mbn Dieu, qu'elle est gentille ! " 

And there stands the beauty, a thorough soldier's girl; 
weighs her hundred and seventy pounds, has cheeks like new- 
cut beefsteaks, hair black as charcoal, eyes bright as fire, and 
an arm capable of cooking for a regiment. She is dressed in 
full Albanian costume, has the dew of the fields in her air, and 
oh ! when she smiles, she shows such splendid teeth ! — the con- 
tadine have them, and don't ruin them by continual eating ! 
The soldier stops. " Oh Lord, she is neat ! " He wants to 
return her flowery compliment with a similar one ; but — Tic 
bleu I — one can't buy bouquets on four sous a day income — even 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 219 

in Eome : so he looks around for a waif, and spies on the pave- 
ment something green. He gallantly throws it up, and, with 
a smile and wave of the hand like a Chevalier Bayard on a 
bender, he bids adieu to the fair maiden. He threw up half a 
head of lettuce. 

" Ach mem Gott I wollen sie nur ? " and in return for a 
double handful of confetti flung into a carriage full of German 
artists ahead of him, ^' bang ! " comes into Caper's vehicle a 
shower of lime pills and other stunners — not including the lan- 
guage — and he is in for it. A minute, and the whole Corso 
► rains, hails, and pelts flowers and white pills. Nothing else is 
visible. Up there laugh down at them whole balconies, filled 
with delirious men and women, throwing on their devoted 
heads, Americans, French, German, rattling, tumbling, fistfuls 
of confetti and wild flowers. Even that half head of lettuce 
was among the things flying ! English, French, Dutch, Span- 
ish, Germans, Italians, Americans, and those wild northern 
bloods — all grit and game — the Eussians, are down on them 
hke a thousand of bricks. Hurrah ! the carriages move on — 
they are safe. Hurrah for a new fight with fresh faces ! 
Avanti! 

Comes a carriage load of wild Eussians. Ivan, the moud- 
jiJcy fresh from the Nevskoi Prospekt, now drives for the first 
time in the Corso — Dam na vodka, SahakoutcheloveJcj thinks 
he. Yes, my sweet son of a dog, thou shalt have vodka to 
drink after all this scrimmage is over. So he holds in his 
horses with one hand, crowds down his fur hat with the other, 
so that his eyes will be safe, and then bravely faces the sting- 
ing shower of confetti his lord and master draws down on him. 
Up on the back seat of this carriage, all life and fire, stands the 



220 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

Russian prince, with headpiece of mail, and red surtout, a Car- 
nival Circassian, " down on " the slow-plodding Italians, and 
throwing himself away with flowers and fun. Isn't he a pic- 
ture ? How his blue eyes gleam ! how his long, wavy mous- 
tache curls with the play of features ! how the flowers fly — 
how the rubles fly for them I Look at the other Russians — 
there are beards for you ! beards grown where brandy freezes I 
but they are thawed out now. Look at these men ! hear their 
wild northern tongue ! how it rolls out the sounds that frighten 
Italians back to sleepy sonnets and voluptuous songs. Hurrai, 
my Russians ! look fate in the face. Your road is — onward I 

"Ah, yes ; and really, my dear" — here a handful of white 
pills and limedust breaks the sentence — "really, my dear, 
hadn't we better" — " bang ! " comes a tough bouquet, and hits 
milady on that bonnet — " better go to the hotel ? " 

"Indeed, now," milady continues, "they don't respect per- 
sons, these low Italians. They haven't the faintest idea of 
dignity." 

These "low Italians" were more than probably fellow 
countrymen and women of the speaker ; but they may have 
been " low " all the same in her social barometer ; for they 
pitched and flung, hurled and threw all the missiles they could 
lay hands on into the carriage of their unmistakable com- 
patriots, with hearty delight ; since the gentleman, who was 
not gentle, sat upright as a church steeple, never moving a 
muscle, and looking angry and worried at being flung at ; and 
the milady also sat a la mode de church steeple — throwing 
iiothing but angry looks. They went to the hotel. Sorrow go 
with them ! 

Caper and Rocjean now began to throw desperately, for 



AMERICANS IN KOME* 221 

they had a large supply of flowers and confetti on hand, which 
they were anxious to dispose of suddenly — since in ten minutes 
the horses would run, and then the carriages must leave the 
Corso. It was the last day of Carnival, and to-morrow — sack- 
cloth and ashes. How the masks crowd around them ! how 
the beautiful faces, unmasked, are smiling ! Look at them 
well ; stamp them on your heart ; for many and many one 
shall we see never again. Another Carnival will bring them 
again, like song birds in summer ; but a long, long winter will 
be between, and we will be far, far away. 

The Corso is cleared, the infantry half keeps the crowd 
within bounds, a charge of cavalry sweeps the street, and then 
come .rattling, clattering, rushing on the barebacked horses, 
urged on by cries, shouts, yells, and frightened thus to top 
speed ; while the Dutch metal tied to their sides increases their 
alarm— whir ! they are past us, and — the bay horse is ahead. 

Again the carriages are in the Corso. Here and there a 
few bouquets are thrown, floral farewells to the merry season. 
Then, as dusk comes on, and red and golden behind San An- 
gelo flames the funeral pyre of the sun, and through the blue 
night twinkles the evening star, see down the Corso a faint 
light gleaming. Another and another light shines from bal- 
cony and window, flashes from rolling carriage, and flames out 
from along the dusky walls, till — presto I — you turn your head, 
and up the Corso, and down the Corso, there is one burst of 
trembling light, and ten thousand tapers are brightly gleaming, 
madly waving, brilliantly swaying to and fro. 

MoccoU ! ecco, moccolil 

Along roll carriages ; high in air gleam tapers, upheld by 
those within ; from every balcony and window shine out the 



222 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

swaying tapers. Hurrah ! here, there, hand to hand, are con- 
tests to put out these shining hghts, and Senza moccoli ! — 
^' Out with the tapers 1 " — rings forth in trumpet tones, in gay, 
laughing tones, in merry tones, the length of the whole glo- 
rious Corso. 

Daring beauty, wild, lovely bacchante, with black, beam* 
ing eyes, tempt us not with that bright flame to destruction ! 
Look at her, as she stands so proudly and erectly on the high- 
est seat in the carriage, her arms thrown up, her wild eyes 
gleaming from under jet-black, dishevelled locks, while the 
night breeze flutters in wavy folds the drapery of her classic 
dress. Senza moccoli I she sends the challenge ringing down 
through fifteen centuries. He braves all; the carriage is 
climbed, the taper is within his reach. 

" To-morrow I leave ! " 

She flings the burning taper away from her. 

" Then take this kiss 1 " 

" Senza moccoli ! " black, witching eyes, farewell ! 

" Boom ! " rings out the closing bell ; fast fades the hght. 
" Out with the tapers ! " — the shout swells up, up, up, then 
slowly dies, as die an organ^s tones-— and Carnival is ended. 

A handful of beautiful flowers, found among gray, crum- 
bling ruins ; a few notes of wild, stirring music, suddenly 
heard, then quickly dying away in the lone watches of the 
night : these are the hours of the Eoman Carnival. 
" Played is the comedy, deserted now the scene.' • 

Miracles are no longer performed in Rome. As soon as 
the police are officially informed, they prevent their being 
worked, even in the Campagna. Official information, however. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 223 

always travels much faster when the spurs of heretical incredu- 
lity are applied — otherwise it lags ; and the performances of 
miracle-mongers insure crowded houses, sometimes for years. 

Among Caper's artist friends was a certain Blaise Monet, 
French by nature, Parisian by birth, artist or writer according 
to circumstances. Circumstances — that is to say, two thousand 
francs left him by a deceased relation — created him a tempo- 
rary artist in Rome. 

" When the money is gone," said he, ^' I shall endow some 
barber with my goat's-hair brushes, and resume the stylus. 
The first have attractions — capillary — for me ; the latter has 
the attraction -gravitation of francs — still more interesting — 
that is to say, more stylish." 

Blaise Monet, with the May breezes, fled to a small town 
on top of a high mountain, in order to enjoy them until au- 
tumn. With the rains of October, he descended on Rome. 

" How did you enjoy yourself up in that hawk's nest ? " 
Caper asked him, when he first saw him after his return to the 
city. 

"Like the king D'Yvetot. My house was a castle, my 
drink good wine, my food solid — the cheese a little too much 
so, and a little too much of it. No matter ; the views made 
up for it. Gr-r-rand, magnificent, splendid ; in fact, paradise 
for twenty haiocchi a day, all told." 

"And as for affairs of the heart ? " 

" My friend, mourn with me. That hole was — so to speak 
in regard to that matter — a monastery, without doors, win- 
dows, or holes ; and a wall around it so high, it shut out — 
hope ! I wish you could have seen the camel who was my 
monastic jailer." 



224 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" That is, when you say camel, you mean jackass ? " 

" Precisely I Well, my friend, his name was Father Cip- 
riano ; though why they call a man father who has no legal 
children, I can't conceive, though probably many of his flock 
do. He prejudiced the minds of the maidens against me, and 
made an attempt to injure my reputation among the young men 
and elders — in vain. The man who could paint a scorpion on 
the wall so naturally as even to delude Father Ciprian into 
beating it for ten minutes with that bundle of sticks they call 
a broom ; the man who could win three races on a barebacked 
horse, treat all hands to wine, and even bestow cigars on a few 
of the elders ; win a terno at the Tombola, and give it back to 
the poor of the town ; catch hold of the rope and help pull by 
the horns, all over town, the ox, thus preparatorily made ten- 
der before it was slaughtered : such a man could not have the 
ill will of the men. 

" Believe me, I did all my possible to touch the hearts of 
the maidens. I serenaded them, learning fearful rondinelle^ so 
as to be popular ; I gathered flowers for them ; I volunteered 
to help them pick chestnuts and cut firewood ; I helped to 
make fireworks and fire balloons for the festivals ; I drew their 
portraits in charcoal on a white wall, along the main street ; 
and when they passed, with copper water-jars on their heads, 
filled with water from the fountain, they exclaimed : 

^^^Ecco! that is Elisa ; that is Maricuccia; that is Fran- 
cesca.' 

" But I threw my little favors away. There was a black 
cloud over all, in a long black robe, called Padre Cipriano ; 
and their hearts were untouched. 

^*I made one good friend, a widow lady, the Signora Mar- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 225 

garita Baccio. She was about thirty-three years of age, and 
was mourning for a second husband — who did not come ; the 
first one having departed for Cielo & few months past, as she 
told me. The widow having a small farm to hoe and dig, and 
about twelve miles to walk daily, I had but limited opportuni- 
ties to study her character ; but I believe, if I had, I should 
not have discovered much, since she had very little. She was 
deplorably ignorant, and excessively superstitious, but good 
natured and hopeful — looking out for husband No. 2. She it 
was who informed me that Padre Cipriano had set the faces of 
the maidens against me, and for this I determined to be re- 
venged. 

" A short time before I left the town, my oil colors were 
about used up. I had made nearly a hundred sketches, and 
not caring to send to Rome for more paints, I used my time 
making pencil sketches. Among the tubes of oil colors left, 
of course there was the vermilion, that will outlast, for a land- 
scape painter, all otliers. I managed to paint a jackass's head 
for the landlord of the inn where I boarded, with my refuse 
colors. After all were gone, there still remained the vermihon. 
One day, out in the fields sketching an old tower, and watching 
the pretty little lizards darting in and out the old ruins, an idea 
struck me. The next day I commenced my plan. 

*' I caught about fifty lizards, and painted a small vermilion 
cross on the head of each one, using severe drying oil and 
turpentine, in order to insure their not being rubbed off. 

"The next dark night, when Padre Cipriano was returning 

from an excursion, he saw an apparition : Phosphorus eyes, 

from the apothecary ; a pair of horns, from the butcher ; a tall 

form, made from reeds, held up by Blaise Monet, and covered 

10* 



226 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

with his long cloak, made in the Rue Cadet — strode before 
him, with these words : 

" * I am the shade of Saint Inanimus, boiled to death by 
Eoman legions, for the sake of my rehgion — ^in oil. My bones 
long since have mouldered in the dust, but, where they lie, the 
little lizards bear a red cross on their heads. Seek near the 
old tower by the old Roman road, here at the foot of this 
mountain, and over it erect a chapel, and cause prayers to be 
said for Saint Inanimus : I, who was boiled to death for the 
sake of my religion — ^in oil.* 

" ' Sh-sh-shade of S-s-saint Ann-on-a-muss, w-w-what k-kind 
of oi-oil was it ? ' gasped Padre Cipriano. 

" The shade seemed to collect himself, as if about to bestow 
a kick on the padre, but changed his mind, as he screamed : 

"^ Hog oil. Go!' 

" The priest departed in fear and trembling ; and the next 
day the whole town rang with the news that an apparition had 
visited Padre Cipriano, and that a procession, for some reason, 
was to be made at once to the old tower. Accordingly, all the 
population that could, set forth at an early hour in the after- 
noon, the padre first informing them of all the circumstances 
attending the ghostly visitor, the red-headed cross lizards by no 
means omitted. Arrived at the tower, they were fortunate 
enough to find a red-cross lizard, then another, and -another ; 
and it being buzzed about that one of them was worth, I don't 
know how many gallons of holy water— -the inhabitants, more- 
over, beheving, if they had one, they could commit all kinds 
of sins free gratis, without confession, &c., — there at once com- 
menced, consequently, a most indecorous riot among those in 
the procession ; taking advantage of which, the lizards made 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 227 

hurried journeys to other old ruins. The inhabitants of an- 
other small town, having heard of the Miracolo delle lucertole^ 
came up in force to secure a few lizards for their households. 
Then commenced those exquisite battles seen nowhere else in 
such perfection as in southern Italy. 

"His eyes starting out of his head, his hands and legs 
shaking with excitement, one man stands in front of another so 
* hopping mad ^ that you would believe them both dancing the 
tarantella, if you did not hear them shout — such voices for an 
opera chorus I — 

"*You say that to me? to me? to ME!' Hands 
working. 

" a do ; to 2/ow / ' 

" * To me, me, me ? * striking himself on his breast. 

'' ' Yes, yes ; I do, I do ! ' 

"*"What, to me! me! I?^ both hands pointing toward 
his own body, as if to be sure of the identity of the person ; 
and, that there might not be the possibility of any mistake, he 
again shouts, screams, yells, shrieks : ^ To me ? What, that 
to me ! to ME ! ' hands and arms working like a crab's. 

" Then the entire population rush in, with * Bravo, Johnny, 
bravo ! ' At last, after they have screamed themselves black 
in the fiice, and swung their arms and legs until they are ready 
to drop off, both combatants coolly walk off; and a couple of 
fresh hands rush in, assisted by the splendid Eoman chorus, and 
begin : 

"^What, me? me?' &c. 

" But the battle of the lizards was conducted with more 
spirit than the general run of quarrels, for the people were 
fighting for remission of their sins, as it were — the possession 



228 AMEEICANS IN EOME. 

of every sanctified red-headed lizard being so much money- 
saved from the Church, so many years out of purgatory. 

" The gendarmeria heard the row, and at once rushed down 
— four soldiers comprised the garrison — to dissipate the crowd. 
This they managed to do in a peaceable way. There happened 
to be a heretical spur in the town, in the shape of three Ger- 
man artists, and this incited the bishop of the province, who 
was at once informed of the miracle-working doings of Father 
Ciprian, to displace him. 

" Thus, my dear friend, I was left to make love to the girls 
until I had to return to Rome — unfortunately only two weeks' 
time ; for the newly-appointed priest had not the opportunity 
to set them against me. 

** The moral of this long story is : That even vermilion can 
be worked up in a miraculous manner — if you put the power- 
ful reflective faculty in motion ; and doing so, you can have 
the satisfaction of knowing that by its means you can cause an 
invisible sign to be stuck up over even a country town in 
Italy : ^All Persons are Forlidden to Work Miracles Here I ^ " 

The government, aware of its foreign reputation for patron- 
izing the Belle Art% has an annual display of such paintings 
and sculpture as artists may see fit to send, and — the censor see 
fit to admit : for, in this exhibition, ^^ nothing is shown that 
will shock the most fastidious taste " — and it can be found thus, 
in a building in the Piazza del Popolo. 

Caper's painting for the display was rejected for some rea- 
son. It represented a sinister-looking brigand, stealing away 
with Two Keys in one hand and a split cap in the other, sud- 
denly kicked over by a large-sized donkey, his mane and tail 



AMEEICANS IN ROME. 229 

flying, head up, and an air of liberty about him generally, 
which probably shocked Antonelli's tool, the censor's, sense of 
■the proprieties. 

Kocjean consoled Caper with the reflection that his paint- 
ing was refused admittance because the donkey had gradually 
grown to be emblematical of the state ; in fact, was so popu- 
larly known to the forestieri as the Eoman locomotive, with 
allusions to its steam whistle, &c., highly annoying to the chief 
authorities — and, therefore, its introduction in a painting was 
intolerable, and not to be endured. 

The works of art included contributions from Americans, 
ItaHans, Belgians, Swiss, English, Hessians, French, Dutch, 
Danes, Bavarians, Spaniards, Norwegians, Prussians, Russians, 
Austrians, Finns, Esthonians, Lithuanians, Laplanders, and 
Samoyedes. There was little evidence of the handiwork of 
mature artists : they either withheld their productions from dis- 
like of the managers, or through determination of giving their 
younger brethren a fair field and a clear show. A careful ob- 
server could see that these young artists had not profited to the 
fullest extent by the advantages held out to them through a 
residence in the Imperial City. There was a wine-yness, and 
a pretty-girl-yness, and tobacco-ness, about paintings and sculp- 
ture, that could have been picked up just as well in Copen- 
hagen, or Madrid, or New York, as in Rome. Michael Angelo 
evidently had not " struck in " on their canvases, or Praxiteles 
struck out from their marbles. Theirs was an unrevealed reli- 
gion to these neophytes. 

The ^tudy of a piece of old Turkey carpet, or a camel's- 
hair shawl, or a butterfly's wing, or a bouquet of many flowers, 
would have tauo;lit the best artist in the exhibition more con- 



230 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

cerning color, than he would learn in ten years simply copying 
the best of the old painters; who had themselves studied 
directly from these things, and their like. 

In sculpture, as in painting, the artists showed the same 
tame following other sculptors ; the same fear of facing Nature, 
and studying her face to face. A pretty kind of statue of 
Modesty a man would make, who would take the legs of a 
satyr, the body of a Venus, the head of Bacchus, the arms of 
Eros, and thus construct her ; yet scarcely a modern statue is 
made wherein some such incongruous models do not play their 
part. Go with a clear head — not one ringing with last night's 
debauch — and study the Dying Gladiator ! That will be 
enough — something more than five tenths of you young Popo- 
lites can stand, if you catch but the faintest conception of the 
mind once moving the sculptor of such a statue. After you 
have earnestly thought over such a masterpiece, go back to 
your studio ; break up your models for legs, arms, bodies, and 
heads ; take the scalpel in hand, and study anatomy as if your 
heart was in it. Have the living model nude before you at all 
times. Close your studio door to all " ordei;s," be they ever so 
tempting. If a fastidious world will have you make ^^nude 
statues dressed in stockinet," tell it to get behind you ! After 
long years of earnest study and labor, carve a hand, a foot. 
If, when you have finished it, one living soul says, with 
truth, " Blood, bones, and muscles seem under the mar- 
ble ! " believe that you are not far off from exceeding great 
reward. 

In the Popolo exhibition for 1858 was a marble statuette 
of Daphnis and Chloe, by Luigi Guglielmi, of Rome. 

Chloe had a low-necked dress on. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 231 

The Roman censor disapproved of this. In a city claiming 
to be the "HOME OF ABT "— they pinned a piece of 

FOOLSCAP PAPER AROUND THE NECK OF ChLOE. 

Rome is the cradle of Art : if so, the sooner the world 
changes its nurse, the better for the babe I 



CHAPTEE X. 

There are three quiet old places on the Continent that 
Caper always remembers with solemn pleasure — Breda in Hol- 
land, Segni in Italy, Neufchatel in Switzerland, He reposed 
in Breda, rested in Segni, was severely tranquil in Neufchatel. 
The real charm of travelhng is best appreciated when one is 
able to pause in one's headlong career in some such place, and 
meditate over it. Caper paused for many months at Segni. 

Segni, or Signia, a Latium city of the Volscians, was, after 
its colonization by the Romans, always faithful to the Republic. 
Strabo, Pliny, Plautus, Martial, Juvenal, Silius Italicus, Dio- 
nysius Halicarnassus, and Livy, all make mention, in one way 
or another, of this city. Little is known of its history, from 
the fact that it was burned to the ground by the order of the 
Duke of Alva, viceroy of Naples, on the 14th of August, 
1557 ; and in the fire all records of the city were destroyed. 
Its polygonal or Cyclopean walls, of Pelasgic origin, still re- 
main in many parts as perfect as they ever were : consisting 
of gigantic blocks of hewn limestone, they are fitted one into 
another with admirable precision. No mortar was used in lay- 
ing them ; and there they stand, these well-named Cyclopean 
walls — for some of the stones are twelve feet long by five feet 
wide — firmly as if centuries on centuries had not sent a myriad 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 233 

of storms to try their strength. There are several gates in 
these walls, noted among which is one called the Saracen's 
Gate. It is known in architecture from its indicating, by its 
form, one of the first attempts toward the pointed arch. 

In walking through the town, you find here and there bits 
of Middle- Age architecture, which have escaped ruin ; here a 
door, there a window, of graceful design, built around with the 
rough masonwork for which Segni is noted in later days ; but 
the greater number of the houses are constructed in the rudest 
manner, indicating the poverty and ignorance of the majority 
of the inhabitants. It is, however, a decent poverty ; for, to 
the credit of the town be it spoken, there was not, when Caper 
was there, a professional beggar, excepting the friars, in or 
around it. 

Taking the first street — if a rough road winding around the 
top of the mountain, and but four or five feet wide, may be 
called so — Caper saw at the doors of the houses, standing chat- 
ting to each other, many old women, their white hair flying in 
every direction, who, as they talked, knitted stockings, or, with 
distaff in hand, twirled the spindle, making flax into thread for 
spinning, or wool into woof and web for weaving. Hearing a 
shuttle, he looked in at an open door, and found a young girl 
busily weaving a heavy blue cloth at a queer old loom. Not 
far from her, an elderly woman was weaving flax thread into 
coarse, heavy linen goods. Passing along, he heard the whir 
of millstones, and, entering a house, saw a girl working one of 
the handmills of the country. On a stand, where there was a 
stone basin, the girl turned in the wheat ; another stone, fitting 
exactly in the basin, was attached to the ceiling by a long pole ; 
catching hold of this, she gave the stone a rotary motion, grind- 
ing the wheat very fairly. 



234 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Suddenly Caper saw in the back part of the room a woman 
holdmg what seemed a large, red-headed caterpillar, without 
any fuzz on it. She was evidently nourishing it in the way 
represented in that famous painting, '' The Roman Daughter," 
thus proving that it was a baby. Its resemblance to the cater- 
pillar arose from the way it was swathed. Around all the 
Segnian infants they wind a strip of knit or woven cloth, about 
eight feet long and four inches w4de, fairly mummifying them ; 
then, to crown the work, they put on their little bullet heads a 
scarlet cap with brilliant flowers and ribbons, making the poor 
babies resemble anything but Christian productions. In a 
neighboring town they hang their babies up in a wicker 
basket, resembling the birch-bark contrivances for our Indian 
pappooses. 

Continuing his walk, our artist next came to where they 
were building a house ; and its future occupant, v/ho was a 
man of some enterprise and action, told Caper, with a long 
face, that he almost despaired of seeing it completed. The 
harvest came, and almost every workman went off to the 
wheat fields, leaving the house unfinished until they were ready 
to recommence work on it, well knowing that there were no 
other ones in the town able to do their labor. However, those 
who mixed mortar, carried tiles, and stone, and plaster, were 
hard at work. These laborers were girls of from twelve to 
sixteen years old ; and one or two of them, spite of dirt and 
hard labor, were really handsome, with bright, intelligent coun- 
tenances. They earned one paul (ten cents) each a day, and 
seemed contented and happy, joking with each other, and 
laughing heartily nearly all the time. Probably our Chippewa 
Indians would think twice before they set the young women of 



A M E R I C A N S I N K O M E . 235 

tlieir tribe to hod-carrying as a livelihood ; but then the Chip- 
pewas are savages. The hods carried by these girls on their 
heads were flat, wooden trays, square at each end. Once 
poised on the head, they balanced themselves, and were carried 
around without a fall. This carrying on the head, by the 
women, from an eight-gallon barrel of wine down to a sickle or 
pocket handkerchief, helps to give them their straight forms 
and fine carriage of head, neck, and shoulders. 

Napoleon the First, in breaking down most of the feudal 
customs of the Papal States, should be regarded by the poor 
inhabitants as one of their greatest benefactors. Still, many a 
remnant of the middle ages remains firmly marked in the habits 
of the country people. Even now the inhabitants of the Cam- 
. pagna live, not in isolated houses, but in small towns built 
around the once protecting castle or powerful nlonastery, where, 
in times past, they fled, when attacked in the fields by the fol- 
lowers of some house inimical to the one under whose protec- 
tion they lived. Follow the entire Campagna, from Rome to 
Naples, by way of Frosinone, and you will see the ruins of 
watch towers, built to warn the workmen in the fields of the 
approaching enemy. Thus, in Segni, although the fields cul- 
tured by the inhabitants lay miles away at the foot of the 
mountain, yet every day seven eighths of the five thousand 
inhabitants walked from four to six miles or more down the 
mountains to the scene of their daily labors, returning the same 
distance at sunset. Often and often Caper saw the mother, 
unable to leave the infant at home, carry it in a basket on her 
head to the far-away fields, bringing it back at night with the 
additional burden of corn shelled or wheat garnered in the 
field. Trotting along gayly at her side, you may be sure, was 



236 AMERICAKS IN ROME. 

the ever-present black pig, with a long string wound around 
his body, by which he is attached to some tree or stone as soon 
as he reaches the fields, and thus prevented from rooting where 
he should not root. The day's labor of his mistress finished,' 
she unties him, wraps the string around his body, and he fol- 
lows her up to the town with the docility of a well-trained 
dog 

It is the women, too, who daily walk four or five miles up 
the mountain for their supply of firewood. Arriving at the 
forest of the commune, they collect split wood and fagots, tying 
them into round bundles, a yard long, and two or three feet in 
diameter, and return to Segni, carrying this small woodpile all 
the way on their heads. It is the women, too, who bring 
water from the fountains for their household use, in copper ves- 
sels (conche) holding from two to three gallons. These are 
placed on the head, and carried, self- balancing, sometimes for 
long distances. At a fair held at Frosinone, Caper once saw 
several women, each one carrying on her head two of these 
conchcj filled with water, one balanced on the other ; and this 
for half a mile up a steep road, from the fountain at the foot of 
the mountain, to the town above. 

The women, too, do their fair share of harvesting. They 
cut the wheat with sickles ; then, after it is cut, separate the 
grains from the stalk by rubbing a handful of stalks with a 
small piece of wood in which a series of iron rings are placed, 
making a rude rasp ; collecting the grains, they then carry 
them from the fields, sifting them at their leisure in a large 
round sieve, suspended from a triangle of long poles ; then, on 
a breezy day, you may see them standing over a large cloth, 
holding a double handful of wheat high above their heads, and 



AMERICANS IK ROME. 237 

letting it fall : the wind blows away tlie chaff, and the clean 
grain falls on the outspread cloth. 

In the autumn, when the men are employed in the vintage, 
comes the chestnut season ; and then the women, who are not 
busy in the vineyard, and who regard it as a frolic, go for miles 
up in the mountains, collecting the nuts, large as our horse 
chestnuts. They form no small part of the winter stock of 
food for the mountaineers, while the refuse nuts are used to fat- 
ten the pet pig. "We can have but small conception of the 
primeval look these chestnut woods wear, the trees growing to 
an enormous size, many a one being ten to twelve feet in diam- 
eter. The weather is glorious during this season : clear, 
bright, and buoyantly refreshing blow the autumn winds ; and 
as Caper, day after day, wandered among the old trees, now 
helping an old woman to fill a sack with the brown nuts, now 
clubbing the chestnuts from the trees for a young girl, he, too, 
voted chestnut gathering a rare good time. Far off, and now 
near, the girls were singing their quaint wild songs. Thus 
heard, the rondinella sounds well. It is of the woods and 
deserts ; strange, barbaric, oriental, bacchantic, what you 
please, save dawdling drawing-room and piano-ic. 

To resume the walk around the town : Caper, after leaving 
the man who was employing the sylphide hod-carriers, called 
in at the shop where cigars were sold, and outside of which 
was a tin sign, on which was painted the Papal coat-of-arms, 
and the usual words, indicating that the government monopo- 
lies, salt and tobacco, were for sale. Having bought some 
cigars, he entered into conversation with the man who kept the 
store. He learned, what he already knew, that everything in 
the town was done by hand — ^weaving, spinning, threshing, 
grinding wheat and corn, &c. 



238 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" Do you know," said Caper, *^ that in some countries all 
these labors are done by steam ? " 

It is dangerous to tell great truths ; and after our artist had 
spoken, he saw, by the expression of the man's face, that he 
had placed himself in danger ; but suddenly the cigar-seller's 
face was illuminated with intelligence, as he exclaimed : 

" Oh ! you mean that infernal thing that goes hoo-hoo-hoo ? 
I saw it when I was in Rome, last week. It's going to drag 
cars to Civita Vecchia on the iron road." 

'* That's it," answered Caper, greatly reheved. 

^^ Benissimo ! we never had anything of the kind; and, 
what is more, we don't want one ! " 

Caper walked out, determined to write to New York, and 
beg some of the good people there to save a few missionaries 
from death among the Feejees, and send them to Segni, where 
there was a wide field open for the dissemination of knowledge. 

Passing along, he next came to the small square in front of 
the church, where, once every week, a market was held. Here 
he found a man who had just arrived with fresh fish from Ter- 
racina — ^the Terracina of the opera of " Fra Diavolo." Among 
the small fish, sardines, &c., which were brought to town that 
day, in time for Friday's dinner, when every one kept vigilia^ 
was one large fish, which our artist determined to buy, and 
present to his landlord at the inn. He asked its price. 

*^That fish," said the fishman, "is for the dinner of the 
lUustrissimo and Reverendissimo Monsignore the Bishop ; and 
if you were to turn every scale in its body into laioccho^ and 
give them all to me, you couldn't have it." 

Caper was sorely tempted to turn the scales in his own 
favor, for he knew, if he were to pay well, he could bear off 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 239 

the fish triumphantly, spite of the seller^s declaration ; but a 
thought of the sore afl&iction he would bring into the mind of 
the fat old gentleman in purple, with a gold chain around his 
neck, who rejoiced in the name of bishop, deterred him from 
his heretical proceeding, and he walked away in deep medi- 
tation. 

The patron saint of Segni is San Bruno ; and, to do him 
honor, every other male baby born in the town is called Bruno ; 
so our artist, in his walks around town, heard this name howled, 
cried, screamed, shrieked, called, and appealed to, on an aver- 
age once in five minutes, through the hours when the male 
inhabitants were about and awake. This similarity in names 
was by no means accompanied by similarity in appearance ; for 
there were more light-haired and blue-eyed men by this name 
in the place than any one, having the popular idea of what an 
Italian looks like, would believe could be found in a town of 
the same size in America. Trying to account for the Norse 
look of many of the Segnians, and the Oriental look of many 
others. Caper climbed up to the top of the mountain above the 
town, and, seating himself in the shadow of the old Cyclopean 
wall, looked down the mountain side to the broad valley below 
him. 

As all roads lead to Rome (soliloquized he), it's no won- 
der that those two famous old ways down there in the valley, 
the Via Trajana and the Via Latina, should have once been 
passed over by white-haired, blue-eyed Goths, and, seeing the 
old town perched up here, they should have climbed up, having 
strong legs. Once here, they put all the men to the sword, 
made love to the girls, plundered all that was plunderable ; 
drank up all the liquor, Sambuca, Rosoglio, "Ehum di Gia- 



240 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

maica," and Acqna viva, tliej could put their paws on ; theii, 
having a call further on, left the girls, small babes, and other 
impedimenta (baggage !), rushing on to Rome to settle accounts 
with their bankers there, like hon-o-rable men. So you find 
many flaxen-haired, sky-eyed people up here, and they are 
rough and bold and independent. 

Years and years after them, clambering over the mountains 
from the seacoast, came the Saracens — oh, you were the boys ! 
— and they, being a refined and elegantly educated circle, com- 
pared with the Goths, of course did the same amount of slaugh- 
tering and love making, only more refinedly and elegantly; 
cutting off heads instead of knocking them in ; and with the 
gold spoons and other instruments that they found in the 
church, instead of making sword hilts and helmets, they at once 
worked them into graceful, crescent-shaped earrings, and curi- 
ous rings, chains, and brooches, giving them to the girls, and 
winning their hearts in the old-fashioned style. The girls, for 
their part, declared to each other that when these odious Moors 
went away, they would give all the earrings and brooches back 
to the Church. But they forgot to ; which accounts for their 
wearing them, or those of similar pattern, to this day. 

The gentle Saracens, moreover, wishing to introduce their 
own school of music, taught the girls to sing ; proof of which 
is the horrible songs the contadini still have, resembling in no 
wise pious Christian hymns, but rather a cross between a growl 
to Odin and a yell to Allah ! A growl to Odin, for the girls 
could not forget the Goths, albeit they only knew them through 
reports of their foremothers. 

Then the Saracens turned their attention to crockery ware, 
pots, pans, and water jars ; forming like fruits and flowers th^ 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 24l 

yielding clay, and establishing models that are every hour to 
be seen around one in this old nest. Clothes, too, they 
thought; should be made as they saw " fit ; " and, accordingly, 
head-dresses and dresses, under garments, &c., a la Saracen- 
esca^ were all the rage ; and as the colors were in no wise 
sombre or melancholy to behold, the girls took kindly to them, 
and, shghtly modified, wear them still. "When you see the 
pane — the white cloth worn on the women's heads — remember, 
it was once an Oriental yashmak^ falling around and concealing 
the face of the Italian lady love of a Saracen ; but when the 
Saracens departed, they rolled up the veil, and disclosed to de- 
lighted Christians the features of Rita or Maria, who figured 
for a time as Zoe or Fatima. 

"With their religion, the Saracens were not so successful — 
they could not make it popular ; so they waived this point, 
contented with having set the fashions and introduced their 
own style of music, crockery, and jewelry. 

Thus reflecting. Caper stopped short, regarded his watch, 
found it was near dinner time — the pastoral hour of noonday — 
and then turned to walk down to the inn. On his way he 
passed a store having French caHcoes in the window, and 
mourned in his heart to think how short a time it would be 
before these became popular, and the homemade picturesque 
dresses of the female Segnians would be discarded. The time, 
too, was fast coming — with the railroad from Rome to Naples 
— when travellers will overrun these mountain towns, and the 
price of board shoot up from forty cents to a dollar or two. 
Then the inhabitants will learn geography and become mer- 
cenary, and will learn arithmetic and blaspheme (in their way) 
at forestieri Inglese^ Americani^ Francese^ or Tedesclii^ and cheat 
11 



242 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

them. Then the peace of the Yolscians will have departed, 
never, oh ! never more to return. 

Then the women will wear — bonnets ! and cheap French 
goods ; will no longer look like moving woodyards, bringing 
fagots on their heads down mountain sides ; no longer bear 
aloft the graceful conche filled with sweet water from the foun- 
tain, for hydraulic rams will do their business ; no longer lead 
the sportive pig to pastures new, but pen him up, and feed him 
when the neighbors are not looking on ! These days will 
sorely try the men. Now they labor in the fields in shirts and 
drawers, never thinking of putting on their pantaloons imtil 
they return to the very gates of the town, where, at sunset, 
you may see them, ten or twelve deep, thus employed before 
entering the city ; but in the future they will have to observe 
les convenances^ and make their toilette in the fields. This they 
will do with great grumbling, returning homeward, and they 
will sing rondinelle bearing severely on the forestieri^ who have 
ruined the good old pod-augur days when they made vendetta 
without trouble. Thus reflecting, the donkeys they ride, while 
their wives walk and carry a load, will receive many virulent 
punches intended for other objects. 

^* Signer Giacomo, dinner is served," said the landlord, as 
Caper entered the old inn. 

Cool wine, roast lamb, wild pigeons, crisp salad, with a 
broiled partridge ; great bunches of luscious grapes, figs freshly 
picked, and maccaroni a la Milanese. Such was our artistes 
dinner that day. Patriarchally simple of a necessity; but 
then, what can you expect in a town where the British lion 
has never yet growled for a bushel of raw beef when he is fed, 
or swore at the landlord for not having a pint of hay boiled in 
hot water (tea ?) for breakfast, when he is nervous ? 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 243 

Do not believe, in spite of all you hear about the benighted 
Papal States, that the people spend their holidays groaning and 
begging to depart from this vale of tears. On the contrary, 
the ignorant wretches believe in enjoying every moment of 
life ; and, to judge by the Segnians, who are by no means dys- 
peptical, they do so with all their might. They know, if they 
fall sick, good Doctor Matteucci attends them carefully and 
well, without any charge, for he receives a salary from the 
commune. They know, if they have good health and do their 
work, they will be rewarded every now and then with a holi- 
day, in which rehgion is so tempered with lottery tickets, wine 
drinking, fireworks, horse races, and trading, that, shorn lambs 
as they are, paying to the Church three cents for every twenty- 
five pounds of corn they may grind, and as large a portion of 
their crops for the rent of the lands they till, they still have 
jolly good times at the fairs and festivals in their own and 
neighboring towns. 

Every town has its patron saint, and it is in honor of his 
day that they hold one grand festival each year. To accom- 
modate temporal affairs, a fair is also held on the same day, so 
that the country people of the neighborhood may purchase not 
only the necessaries, but the simple luxuries they need or 
long for. 

Besides the one principal festival and fair in Segni to San 
Bruno, already described, they had three minor celebrations of 
minor saints — substitutes, as Eocjean declared, for Pomona, 
Bacchus, and Ceres. Certainly, the saints' days fell very 
curiously about the same time their predecessors were wor- 
shipped. 

It is, however, of five festivals and fairs held in five neigh- 



244 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

boring towns, that the present chapter treats ; so let the drums 
beat while our three artists proceed to enjoy, on paper, the 
days they celebrated. 

One evening, the vetturino^ Francesco, came to the trio and 
told them that on the next day but one, Sunday, there would 
be a fair and festa at Frosinone, a town about twenty-three 
miles from Segni, and that if they wished to go, he had three 
seats to hire in his vettura. Having heard that the costumes to 
be seen there were highly picturesque, and anxious to study 
the habits of the people in holiday guise, our artists determined 
to go. At daybreak on the appointed morning, having break- 
fasted, and filled their flasks with wine, they started with a 
guide to walk down to Casa Bianca, a small osteria^ distant, as 
the guide assured them, about two miles ; three miles, as Fran- 
cesco swore to ; four miles, as Gaetano, the landlord, declared ; 
and six miles, as Caper and Eocjean were ready to affirm to. 
Down the mountain road they scrambled, only losing their 
patience when they found they had to wade a small marsh, 
where their tempers and pohshed boots were sorely tried. 
Once over, they reached Casa Bianca, and found the vettura 
there, having arrived an hour before from Eome, thirty odd 
(and peculiar) miles distant ; and now, with the same horses, 
they had to make twenty-three miles more before ten a. m., 
according to agreement. Rocjean and Caper sat outside the 
carriage, while Dexter sat inside, and conversed with two other 
passengers, cheerful and good-natured people, who did all in 
their power to make everybody around them contented and 

jolly. 

The road went through the fertile Sacco valley ; right and 
left rich pasture grounds, or wheat and corn fields ; the moun- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 245 

tains on either side rising in grandeur in the early sunhght, 
their tops wreathed with veils of rising mist. They soon 
passed Castelaccio (the termination accio is one, according to 
Don Boschi, of vilification ; consequently, the name may be 
translated, Bigbad Castle). This castle belongs to Prince Tor- 
Ionia, a propos of which prince it is rather singular that all his 
money cannot buy good Latin ; for any one may read at Fras- 
cati, staring you in the face as it does, as you wind up the 
villa, engraved on a large marble tablet, an inscription touching 

TORLONIA ET UXSOR EJUS, ETC. 

UxsOR may be Latin, but it is the kind that is paid for, and 
not the spontaneous gift of classic Italy. 

The carriage next passed through Ferentino, Ferentinum 
of the Volscians, where it stopped for a time to let Rocjean 
see the stone called La Fata^ whereon is inscribed the noble 
generosity of Quintilius Priscus, who gave crustula and mulsum 
(cakes and mead) to the old people ; sportulce (cold victuals ?) 
to the decurions, and nucum sparsiones (a sprinkling of nuts) 
for the small children. 

After which antiquarian research, and a drink of wine at 
the Hotel des Etrangeres^ the trio called loudly on Francesco to 
drive on ; for the name of the inn suggested similar signboards, 
Hotel d'Angleterre, Hotel Vittoria, Hotel des Isles Brittaniques, 
at all of which one or other of our travellers had been sav- 
agely fleeced. 

The carriage at last arrived at the tavern, at the foot of the 
mountain on which Frosinone stands, and our artists found that 
the ascent must be made on foot. This, in the face of the 
broiling sun, was equal to two hot baths at least. However, 



246 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

they determined to take it easily, and accordingly tarried for 
a while by an old bridge crossing a small stream, running 
bright and clear, where cattle were drinking ; then they 
stopped at the neighboring fountain, where the girls w^ere fill- 
ing copper water-jars, and dusty contadini were washing them- 
selves in order to present a clean face at the fair ; and hstened 
with pleasure to the hearty laughter and holiday jests bandied 
about with profusion. Thus, in refreshed spirits, they com- 
menced the ascent. 

On the brow of the mountain, in front rank of the houses 
of the city, arose the walls of what they thought at first glance 
was a very large factory ; they subsequently learned it was a 
male-factory, or prison. This, with the governor's palace and 
other lofty buildings, gives Frosinone a stately air, only lost on 
entering the place and finding the streets narrow, steep, and 
not particularly clean. On entering the street leading to the 
main gate of entrance, their ears were saluted by the squealing 
and grunting of many hogs collected together in small droves, 
on both sides the way, for sale or barter. Here stood a 
bronzed peasant, dressed only in shirt and drawers, with boots 
up to his knees ; a steeple-crowned straw hat, with a large car- 
nation pink in it, shading his closely shaved face, on which no 
hair was seen save two long curls pendent in front of his ears, 
while the back part of his head was shaved nearly as smooth 
as his face. This man held in his arms a small pig in a violent 
state of squeals. Mixed up among the pigs were many women 
dressed in lively-colored costumes, looking graceful and pretty, 
and gaining added effect from the dark tones of the old gray 
houses around them. Advancing upward, at times at angles 
of forty-five degrees and more, through narrow streets crowded 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 247 

with picturesque houses (if thej did threaten to tumble down), 
they at last reached the Piazza. Here the squeeze com- 
menced : crockery, garlic, hardware, clothing, rosaries and pic- 
tures of the saints, flowers ; while donkeys, gensdarmes, jack- 
asses, and shovel hats, strangers, and pretty girls, were all 
pressing with might and main — they did not seem to know 
where — probably to the nearest wineshops, which were driving 
a brisk trade. 

Reaching an inn, our artists ordered dinner, and amused 
themselves, while it was being prepared, looking out of the 
window at the crowds in the street beneath. On the opposite 
side of the way were two open windows, evidently *' behind 
the scenes " of the main church, since many of the principal 
actors in the ceremonies were here attiring themselves in curi- 
ous robes prior to their appearing in public. A tallow-faced 
looking youth, with no hair on the extreme crown of his head, 
while swinging a long wax candle around, struck a fat old gen- 
tleman, with a black silk gown and white lace bertha over it, 
in the back ; whereupon, I regret to write it, the fat old gentle- 
man struck the tallow-faced youth the severest kind of a blow 
below the belt, entirely contrary to the rules of the P. R. 
Dexter, having watched the performance, at its conclusion 
shouted for very joy ; whereupon the stout man, raising his 
eyes, saw in the opposite windows the three forestieri ; and I 
do assure you that such a look of malevolence as crossed his 
face for a moment, contained all the Borgias ever knew of poi- 
sons and assassinations. Luckily, the artists did not have to 
go to confession to that man. 

Dinner finished, Rocjean proposed a walk. They first went 
to the old church, but found its interior ruined with whitewash 



248 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

and tawdry decorations. The music, however, was excellent, 
but the crowd of worshippers intense ; so they repaired to the 
cattle market, in the piazza in front of the prison. They had 
been there but a short tim^ before the procession in honor of 
the patron saint of Frosinone, whose full-length seated ef^gy 
was carried by bearers, passed them. Along with other em- 
blems borne by priests or laymen, was a cross, apparently of 
solid wood, the upright piece fully twelve feet long, and as 
large round at the base as your thigh ; the transverse piece of 
the cross was proportionately large. This was borne with ease 
by a moderate-sized man. Caper was at a loss to account for 
the facility with which the bearer handled pieces of timber as 
large as small joists of a house ; so he asked a good-natured 
looking citizen standing near him, if that wooden cross was not 
very heavy ? 

" Eh ! that heavy ? Why, it's not wood ; it's made of 
stove pipes ! " 

The citizen also told Caper that the seated effigy of the 
patron saint had had a hard time of it some years ago, for the 
country around Frosinone suffering from a long drought, the 
inhabitants had in vain prayed, begged, and supplicated the 
aforementioned saint to send them rain ; but he remained obdu- 
rate, until at last, seeing him so stubborn, they seized him, in 
spite of the priests, carried him down to the bridge, neck and 
heels, and threatened him, by all his brother and sister saints, 
to put him to bed — bed of the stream (it was nearly dry) — 
unless he speedily gave them a good supply of rain. In a 
couple of days, sure enough, the rain came down, and in such 
torrents, that there was a grand rush of the country people 
from the vicinity, begging the saint to hold up. Since that 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 249 

time he has behaved very decently, and just now is in high 
favor. 

There were some fine cattle at the fair ; and Dexter, no- 
ticing a peculiar and becoming head-dress to several of the long- 
horned oxen, made of the skin of some animal, ornamented 
with bright-colored strips of woollen with tassels at the end, 
tried to purchase a pair, but found the owners generally un- 
willing to sell them. However, one man at last agreed to sell 
a pair made of wolfskin, with bright red, yellow, and green 
strips and tassels, for a fair price, and Dexter at once bought 
them — as a study, and also as an ornament for his studio. 

The Tombola in the Piazza Tosti drew together a large 
crowd; and then it was that Rocjean was in his element, Caper 
delighted, and Dexter rejoiced in the study of costumes and 
motives for painting. The straw hats worn here looked more 
picturesque than the black felt conical hats of the other end of 
the valley, but the " soaplocks " of the men were villanous. 
The women were brilliant in holiday attire, among their dresses 
showing that half-modern Greek, half Neapolitan style, uniting 
the classic with the middle age. The ciociare — as those who 
wear ciocie^ or sandals, are called — were there in full force. 
One of these men, with whom Eocjean had a long conversation, 
told our artist that the price paid for enough leather for a pair 
was forty cents. Each sandal was made of a square piece of 
sole leather, about twelve inches long by five inches wide, and 
is attached to the foot by strings crossing from one side to the 
other, and bending the leather into the rough resemblance of a 
shoe. The leather is sold by weight, and the ciociara declared 
tliat sandals were far better than shoes. 
11* 



250 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

"But, when it rains, your feet are wet," suggested Eocjean. 

" Seguro " (certainly), answered ciociara, 

"And when it snows, they are wet; and when it is mud- 
dy, they won't keep the mud out ; and when it's .dusty, where 
is the dust ? " 

" Down there, in the Campagna ! '^ answered the man. 
" But you seem to forget that we wrap cloths over our feet and 
legs, as high as the knee, and tie them all on with strings ; or 
else our women knit brown woollen leggings, which cover our 
feet and legs. Well, good or bad, they are better for us {noi 
altri) than shoes." 

Fireworks and a ball at the Governor's palace closed that 
saint's day ; and the next afternoon our artists left the town, to 
return to Segni ; but as, toward midnight, they began to ascend 
the long, steep road leading to the town, they were overtaken 
by a thunder storm, which for grandeur equalled anything that 
Caper at least, had ever seen. The lightning was nearly inces- 
sant, at one flash revealing the valley below them, and distant 
mountain peaks after peaks trembling in white light, then all 
black as black could be ; patches of road in front of the old 
carriage, silver one second, sable another ; while the thunder 
cracked and roared, echoing and reechoing from rock to rock, 
ringing away up the wild gorge around which the road wound. 
The rain fell in torrents, and pebbles and stones loosened from 
the mountain sides came falling around them. Francesco, the 
driver, on foot, urged the tired horses onward with blows and 
the most powerful language he could bring to bear. He ac- 
cused the off-horse of being a pickpocket and an arciprete^ and 
a robber of a small family, of which Francesco assured him he 
knew he was the father. Then the mare Filomena came in for 



AMERICANS IN KOME. 251 

her share of vilifications, being called a ^' giovinastra (naughty 

girl), a veccMerellaccia (vile old hag), a " Here the rain, 

pebbles, lightning, and thunder interrupted the driver, and 
Rocjean told him to take breath and a pull at his flask, which 
was filled with Samhuca. Thus refreshed, although soaked to 
the skin, Francesco livened up, and from despondency passed 
to hope, then to joy, finally landing the old carriage near the 
gate of Segni, in time for the artists to see far below them the 
clouds rolling rapidly away, and hear the thunder grumbling 
far off, over some other town, some other benighted travellers. 

Valmontone was the next town visited, and the festival 
in honor of its patron saint, Luigi Gonzago, was a decided suc- 
cess ; the singing in the church operatically excellent ; a good- 
sized tombola ; a funny dinner in the back room of a grocery 
store, one half of the floor of which was covered with shelled 
corn, while the other half was occupied by the united legs of 
two tables, a dozen chairs, four dogs, one cat, six male and 
three female country people. There was a lamb roasted whole, 
a small barrel of wine, plenty of bread, find-your-own-knives- 
and-be-happy dinner. Coming out of this small den, and pass- 
ing a fine large house, opposite the grand palace of the Prince 
of Valmontone, behold an Italian acquaintance of Caper's 
standing in a balcony with a very handsome woman. Another 
moment, and Caper was invited in, and passed from poverty to 
wealth in the twinkling of an eye. Rooms full of guests, 
tables covered with damask linen, silver, flowers, crystal glasses, 
delicate food (too late !), good wine (just in time !), charming 
ladies. 

" Condessa, permit me to present Signor' Cahpeer, Ameri- 
cano." 



252 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

A rich, full, musical voice, lovely eyes, a brilliant toilette — 
is it any wonder the heart of our artist beat con animo^ when 
the beautiful woman welcomed him to Valmontone, and hoped 
it would not be his last visit. Other introductions, other glasses 
of sparkling wine ; then off for the street, excitement, music, 
coffee, and a cigar ; pretty girls with tender eyes ; the prince's 
stables, with hawks nailed to the doors, and blood horses in their 
stalls ; contadinij cowbells, jackasses ; ride home on horseback 
by moonlight; head swimming, love coming in, fun coming 
out. Exit festival the second. 

Gavignano was the scene of the third festival. It is a 
small town, lying at the foot of Segni. Caper went there on 
horseback, and, after a regular breakneck ride down the moun- 
tain, the path winding round like a string on an apple, arrived 
there in time to escape a pouring rain, and find himself in a 
large hall with three beautiful sisters, the Koses of Montelanico, 
numerous contadini friends, and the wine bottles going round in 
a very lively and exhilarating manner. The rain ceasing. Ca- 
per walked out to see the town, when his arm was suddenly 
seized, and, turning round, who should it be but Pepe the rash, 
Pepe the personification of Figaro — a character impossible for 
northern people to place outside of a madhouse, yet daily to be 
found in southern Europe. Rash, headstrong, full of deviltry, 
splendid appetite, and not much conscience ; volatile, mocking^ 
irrepressible. 

Pepe seized Caper by the arm with a loud laugh, and, only 
saying, ^^ Evviva, Signor' Giacomo, come along! " without giv- 
ing him breathing time, rushed him up narrow streets, down 
dirty alleys, through a crowd of mules, mud, and mankind, 
until they both caught a glimpse of a small church, with green 



AMERICANS IN BOME. 253 

garlands over the door. Hauling Caper inside, lie dragged 
him through a long aisle crowded with kneeling worshippers, 
smashed him down on a bench in front of the main altar, tear- 
ing half a yard of crimson damask, and nearly upsetting the 
priest officiating ; and then, while Caper (red in the face, and 
totally unfit to hear the fine chorus of voices, among which 
Mustafa's, the soprano, came ringing out) was composing him- 
self to listen, Pepe grabbed him, with a 

"Music's over; andiamo (let's go). Did you hear Mus- 
tafa ? Bella vocBj tra-la-leeeee ? Mustafa's a contadino ; I 
know his pa and ma ; they changed him when only five years 
old. Thought he was a Turk, didn't you ? He sings in the 
Sistine chapel. Pretty man — fat ; positively not a sign of a 
beard." 

Strugghng to escape. Caper was rushed out of church, and 
into a caffe to have a tumblerful of boiling coffee poured down 
his throat, and again be expressed up hill at a breakneck rate, 
catching sights of tumbledown old houses, mud, water, flowers, 
peasants, costumes, donkeys, until he was landed in the Gran' 
Piazza. Whew ! 

" Must see the hall where the concert is to-night. Beauti- 
ful girl, lellisima^ pfisp I (imitating kiss) girl from Rome ; 
sings three pieces, Ernani, Norma, pfisp ! Come along ! " 

Smack, bang ! into the hall, where the silence and presence 
of a select few, including Monsignore and the Governatore, in 
council assembled, commanded silence. Pepe wouldn't hear of 
, it anywheres, so again they were in the open air. The band 
was playing good music in the square ; the tombola was about 
to commence, and contadini were busy with pencils and tickets, 
ready to win the eighty scudi put up. 



254 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Tombola commenced, and Pepe at once supervised all the 
tickets within reach. Bravo, twenty-seven ! youVe got it, 
Tonio ; scratch it, my lamb. — You haven't, Santi, povenno 
mio. — It's non c'4 Angeluccio. — Ah, Bruno, always lucky. — 
Fifty-four, Santa Maria I who would have thought it? — Caro 
Bernardo, only one more number to win the terno I " 

Somebody won the tombola at last, and Pepe told Caper he 
should wait for the fireworks and the concert. " Beautiful girl,, 
ah ! hella^ sings three pieces." Here he burst out with that 
song, 

" Ninella mia di zucchero, 
Frende ''sto core^ ed abbraccialo : " 

not waiting for the end of which. Caper interrupted him by 
saying that he should not wait for the evening, as he intended 
returning to Segni at once. 

" Will you ? " asked Pepe. " Oh, hravo ! good idea. 
Concert room will be crowded to suffocation ; get hot, perspire, 
catch cold. Fireworks nothing. I'll go with you ; great fools 
to wait. Here is a wineshop ; let us refresh I " 

In they went, and finished a quart, after which Pepe pro- 
posed visiting another wineshop, where they had some fras- 
cati, good and sweet. So he hurried Caper along so fast 
through mud and narrow streets, all the way down hill, that 
his feet could not begin to hold on the slippery stones, and 
both went ahead on the plan of not being able to stop. At 
last they reached a landing place, where the wine was sold. 
Hastening in, they nearly fell over a tall, splendid-looking girl, 
who was standing in the hall. 

^^ Iddio I it's my cara Giulia, lovely as ever. Come with 



AMERICANS IN EOME. 255 

US, and finish a bottle. This is our friend Giacomo, Americano 
— brave youth, allegro I " 

" It pleases me well to make the acquaintance of the Sig- 
nor. I have often seen him in Segni '^ 

"And now you'll fall in love with him, 

^^ ^ E tu non pien^ a mi,^ " 

sang Pepe. " This comes of my headlong hurry introducing 
pretty girls to interesting strangers. Ah, hella Giulia ! " 

^^ Zitto ! Pepe, and pour me out a glass of wine." 

Pepe poured out the wine, one glass after another. Sud- 
denly springing from his seat, he said, " Wait here a minute ; 
I see Gaetano. Will be back again prestissimo ! " 

He went, and Caper and Giulia were left seated, talking 
merrily over the wine. There were stars shining when Giulia 
bid good night to Caper, yet Pepe did not return. He had 
seized some new idea — ^may-be the pretty Roman who sang at 
the concert. Then Caper saddled his horse, and rode out into 
the night — glad that he had met black-eyed Giulia. 

The night-rides up the mountain ! Here's romance, real 
and beautiful. Are you not treading an old Roman road, over 
which the legions have marched to victory, war chariots rat- 
tled ? Up the mountains, on the old road once leading over 
the mountains to Terracina, the Tarracina of the Romans, who 
made it one of their naval stations ; up that road you go, trust- 
ing solely to your horse, one slip of whose foot would send you 
into eternity via a ravine some hundred feet sheer down. 
Here, bright light from a casina where the contadini are load- 
ing mules with grapes to be pressed in the city up there near 
the stars ! High above you, nothing but a wall of black rock. 



256 AMERICANS IN EOME. 

up, up so high ! Stars gleaming down, the comet taiUng from 
side to side of the ravine, while the path in the ragged, jagged, 
storm-gullied rock is so dark you see nothing. Your horse 
stops, his hind feet slip — ^no ! he clings, his hoofs are planted 
firm. Up he goes, and there, in the hands of Providence, you 
are tossed and pitched, as he winds up and plunges down. 
The merry ringing, jingling bells of mules ahead, and the 
voices of their drivers : turn a corner, and the bright light of 
torches flashes in your eyes. Look again and earnestly at the 
beautiful scene : mules, drivers, black rocks, olive trees above, 
all flamboyant in the ruddy light, appearing and disappearing ; 
a weird, wild scene. Up, up, long is the way ; past the foun- 
tain where the stars are flashing in the splashing waters ; past 
gardens ; past the mountain path at last. Ecco^ the inn of 
Gaetano. 

Anagni held its festival in honor of San Magno {Prottetore 
della Citta) on the 19th day of August. Gaetano, the land- 
lord, invited Caper to attend it, putting his famous white horse 
at the disposal of the artist, accompanying him on a small bay 
beast that was extremely fond of showing his heels to the sur- 
rounding objects. Leaving Segni about ten o'clock in the 
morning, they had hardly reached a bridle path down the 
mountain, nothing more, in fact, than a gully, when they were 
joined by a cavalcade of four other Segnians. One of them, 
the ^' funny fellow " of the party, was mounted on a very meek- 
looking donkey, and enlivened the hot ride across the valley of 
the Sacco by spasmodic attempts to lead the cavalcade, and 
come in ahead of the others. He had a lively time as they 
approached the city, and a joke with every foot passenger on 
the way ; but Gaetano, whose reserve was one of his strong 



A3IEEICAKS IN ROME. 257 

points, and who was anxious to enter Anagni under favorable 
auspices, gave the word to Caper, and in a few minutes they 
left cavalcade and donkey rider far behind. 

Anagni, the ancient Anagnia^ was the capital of the Her- 
nici. The favorite residence, in the middle ages, of several of 
the popes, it still shows in its buildings marks of the wealth it 
once enjoyed. Having stabled their horses with a friend of 
Gaetano's, who insisted on their finishing the best part of -a 
hottiglia of red wine with him, the artist, under the landlord's 
guidance, set out to see the town. They climbed up street to 
the cathedral, a fine old pile, trembling with music, and filled 
with worshippers, paintings of saints in extremis^ flowers, wax 
candles, votary offerings, and heat ; then coming out, and feel- 
ing wolfish, looked round for a place where they could find din- 
ner ! Here it was ! a scene that would have cheered Teniers : 
a very large room, its walls brown with smoke ; long wooden 
tables, destitute of cloth, but crowded with country people 
eating, drinking, talking, enjoying themselves to the utmost, 
extent. Forks were invisible, but every man had his own 
knife, and Caper, similarly provided, whipped out his long 
pocket weapon and commenced an attack on roast lamb and 
bread, as if time were indeed precious. "Wine was provided 
at Fair price ; and, with fruit, he managed to cry at last, 
" Hold, enough ! " 

Gaetano, having a message for a young priest in the semi- 
nary there, asked Caper how he would like to see the interior 
of the building, and the way the prete lived ? Caper assenting, 
they entered a fine large establishment, with broad walls and 
high ceilings, and mounting to the second story, and knocking 
at the door of a chamber, they were admitted by a tall, thin, 



258 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

sallow young man, about eighteen years old, evidently the 
worse for want of exercise, and none the stronger minded for 
his narrow course of education and instruction. 

Gaetano introduced Caper to the young priest, and the 
artist, who, a moment before entering the room, was as lively 
as the Infant Bacchus, at once became melancholy as the Infant 
Samuel, and a feeling of such pity seized him, that, endeavor- 
ing not to show it, he turned it to a sentiment of interest in the 
young priest and his surroundings, admiring the beautiful view 
from the window, and, turning inward to a poor wreath of 
paper flowers hanging over a holy- water fount attached to the 
wall, praised their resemblance to natural flowers. (Was that 
imtruth unforgiven ?) 

" I made them," said the young priest ; " but they are 
nothing to the ones I have made for our church in Montelanico. 
I will show those to you." Opening a large paper box, he 
showed Caper wreaths and festoons of paper flowers. ^^I have 
spent weeks on weeks over them," he continued, " and they 
will decorate the church at the next festa, I spend all my 
leisure hours making artificial flowers." 

In answer to a question from Caper, if the dress he then 
wore was the usual one worn by the seminarists on important 
occasions, the young priest answered him that it was not, and 
at once produced the full dress, putting on the upper garment, 
a species of cassock, in order to show him how it looked. He 
next called his attention to a curious old work, full of engrav- 
ings illustrating the different costumes of the different orders 
of priests, and was in full course to describe them all, when 
Gaetano told him that he was sorry, but that he had to go, as 
ho had some matters to attend to at the fair. So Caper bid the 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 259 

young priest good-bj, saying he regretted that he had not 
time to further study the ecclesiastical costumes. A feeling 
of relief seized him when he was once more in the open 
air — thoughts of gunning, fishing, boating, horse riding, foot 
racing, fighting, anything, so long as it was not the mak- 
ing paper flowers by that poor, pale-faced boy — it was ter- 
rible ! 

There are several resident families in Anagni having titles. 
These are known as the stelle d^ Anagni (stars of Anagni), and 
number, among the ladies, many beautiful faces, if those point- 
ed out to him were the true stars. But it was while smoking 
a cigar over a cup of coffee, that he saw enter the cafe, with- 
out exception one of the loveliest and most attractive women 
he met in Italy. The word simpatica^ so often used by Italians, 
expressing, as it does, so much in so short a space, exactly 
applied to the charming woman who passed him. as she entered 
the room where he was seated. She was accompanied by sev- 
eral gentlemen, one of whom, on whose arm she leaned, hav- 
ing the most character of all the others in his face, and the 
finest-looking man in figure and carriage, Caper selected as her 
husband ; and he was right. 

Gaetano, having finished his business, soon entered the cafe 
in company with a dashing, handsome-looking man, in half- 
ecclesiastical costume ; for though he wore a shovel hat and 
long-tailed black frock coat, yet his other clothes, though black, 
had the air of being made by an a la mode tailor. His man- 
ner was cordial, frank, hearty. He proposed a walk around 
the town, to see what was going on among the villani. Caper 
caUing his attention to the lady mentioned above, the ecclesias- 
tic, making his excuses for his sudden leave, at once hurried 



260 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

over to salute her, and was evidently verj cordially received. 
He returned in a few minutes to Caper. 

" It is the Principessa , and she insists on having an 

introduction to the American. She is making the villegiatura 
among these mountain towns for a frolic. She will be in 

Segni, with her husband, the Signor , and it will be 

pleasant for you to know them while there." 

*^ Introduce me, by all means. She is the most beautiful 
woman I have seen in Italy." 

The introduction w^as made, and our artist surpassed him- 
self in conversing intelligibly, much to the dehght of the fair 
Italian and her friends, who declared they were prepared to 
converse with him solely by signs. Promising that when they 
came to Segni he should not fail to call upon them, and give 
them a long account of the savage life he lived among his 
Indian brethren in America, he laughingly bid them good 
day. 

The dashing priest now went with Caper and Gaetano 
through the crowded streets, pointing out objects of interest, 
architectural and human ; past booths where all kinds of mer- 
chandise was exposed for sale, out to see the ancient massive 
walls of travertine, where divers stunning objects were carved, 
inscriptions, &c. Then they found a wineshop, where it was 
cool and tolerably quiet, and smoked and drank until sunset, 
having much sport conversing with the amiable villane^ who 
were as comfortably tipsy as their circumstances would permit. 
At sunset, the Piazza Grande was brilliant with hangings, crim- 
son and gold, and colored tapestry hung from the windows of 
the surrounding houses. Here the tombola was held, and here 
the crowd was excited as usual. The lucky ones bearing off 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 261 

the prizes were in such rapturous state of bliss — " one might 
have stuck pins into them without their feehng it." 

About sunset, Gaetano and Caper saddled their horses, and 
left the city, striking over the valley to Segni, passing on the 
road country people mounted on donkeys, or travelling along 
on foot, nine tenths of whom were vigorously canvassing — the 
life of Saint Magno ? — no, indeed, but the chances of the 
lottery ! 

There was to have been the next day, at Anagni, a curious 
chase of buffaloes, in accordance with some passage in the life 
of San Magno, as the people said ; but, according to Eocjean, 
more probably some neglected ceremony of the ancient hea- 
thens, which the party in power, finding they could not abolish, 
gracefully tacked on to the back of the protector of the city. 
These kind of things are done to an alarming extent around 
Rome ; and the Sieur de Rocjean, when he lost his calendar 
containing the dates of all the festivals, said it was of no im- 
portance — he had an excellent Lempriere ! 

The fifth festival — if you have patience to read about it — 
was held at Genazzano, and was decidedly the most cele- 
brated one of the season. It came off on the 8th of Septem- 
ber, and for costumes, picturesqueness, and general effect, might 
have been called, to copy from piano literature, Le Songe d'un 
Artiste, 

The town itself looks as if it had just been kicked out of a 
theatre. Round towers at entrance gate, streets narrow, and 
all up hill, the tiles on the houses running down to see what is 
going on in the gutter, quaint old houses, gray with time, with 
latticed windows, queer old doors, a grand old castle in ruins. 
It is one of the scenes you long so much to see before you 



262 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

come abroad, and which you so seldom find along the Grande 
Route. Spend a summer in the mountain towns of Italy ! 
among the Volscian mountains or hills — and have your eyes 
opened. 

As Gaper entered the gate, the first objects meeting his 
sight were : A procession of genuine pilgrims, dressed precisely 
as you see them in Eobert le Diable, or Linda di Chamouni, or 
on the stage generally — ^long gray robes down to their feet, 
cocked hats with cockle shells, long wands ; some barefoot, 
some with sandals : on they passed, singing religious songs. 
Then came the peasantry, all in perfect theatrical harmony, 
costumes rigidly correct a la Sonnamhula. German artists 
dressed in Sunday clothes d la Der Freyschutz, A cafe with 
festoons of lemon peel hung from window to window — they 
are not up to this idea in Fra Diavolo, Pretty girls in latticed 
windows, with red bodices, white sleeves, flowers in their hair 
— legitimate Italian drama. Crockery ware in piles — low 
comedy. A man with a table, Sambuca and Acqua-vita bottles 
on it, and wee glasses, one cent a drink — melodrama. Fresh 
oranges and figs, pumpkin seed and pine cones ; a house with 
mushrooms strung on thread, hanging from window to window 
— ^this was not for festival display, but is the common way of 
the country. Notices of the festa, containing programnie of 
the day, including amusements, ecclesiastical and secular, hung 
up alongside the stands where they were selling lottery tickets 
— tragedy. Fountains, with groups of peasantry drinking, or 
watering horses and donkeys — pantomime. Priests, in crow- 
black raiment, and canal-boat or shovel hats — mystery. Stran- 
gers from Rome, in the negro-minstrel style of costume, if 
young men ; or in the rotund-paunch and black-raiment dress, 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 263 

if elderly men ; or in the chiffonee style, if Eoman women 
attempting the last Parisian fashion — -farce. 

Here are the booths with rosaries, crucifixes, Virgin Mary's, 
holy- water holders, medals of Pio Nono, or jewelry ; gold cres- 
cent ear-rings, spadine (long silver hair-pins) ; silver hearts, legs, 
arms, for votive offerings, and crosses without number. 

Caper entered the church. It was filled, and stifling with 
heat, and frankincense, and contadintj and wax lights burning 
before the shrine, on which the sun shone. There were beau- 
tiful faces among the pajine (people in fine raiment), showing 
what can be made from the contadine (people in coarse clothes) 
by not overworking them. 

Once more our artist was in the pure air, and, walking up 
the main street, came to a house with a beautifully carved stone 
window, half Byzantine, half Gothic, while a house on the 
opposite side of the street boasted of two other windows finely 
carved. "While looking at them. Caper was hailed by name, 
and a stout, fresh-colored English artist, named Wardor, whom 
he had known in Rome, came over and welcomed him to Ge- 
nazzano. Wardor, it turned out, was spending the summer 
there, as he had done the year before ; consequently, there was 
not a nook or corner in the old town he did not know ; and if 
he had not been so lazy, he could have filled his sketch book 
with a hundred picturesque studies. But no ; with the keenest 
appreciation of every bit of color, every graceful pose of a 
human figure, every beautiful face, every fine effect of light or 
shadow — he made no sign. His legitimate function was 
friendly guide to the stranger, and in this office he carried 
Caper all over the old castle, out to the long shady walk on the 
esplanade behind it, pointed out beautiful views over the val- 



264 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

ley ; finally showing Caper his studio, which, as it was a large 
room, and his padrona could impose on his good nature, was 
fairly glittering with copper pans, hung on the walls when not 
in use in the kitchen. On an easel was a painting, to be called 
The King of the Campagna ; all that was apparent was the 
head and horns of the king. Wardor had thus actually spent 
three months painting on a space not so large as your fist, 
while the canvas was at least three feet by two feet and a half. 
But the king, a buffalo, would be a regal figure, for the head 
was life itself. 

Caper proposed finishing a bottle of wine with "Wardor, in 
honor of the day ; so the latter piloted him up street and then 
down a flight of steps to a quiet wineshop, where, sitting on a 
shady terrace, they could calmly enjoy the lovely landscape 
spread below them, and look over the town, over the valley, to 
far-away Segni, high up in the Volscians. The landlord's wife, 
a buxom, comely woman, in full holiday costume, brought 
them a flask of cool wine and glasses, presenting them at the 
same time with a couple of very large sweet apples, the largest 
of which was thirteen inches in circumference by actual meas- 
urement. So you see they have apples as well as oranges in 
Italy ; only, apples are practical, so they are generally omitted 
in the poetical descriptions of the blue-skyed land. 

Caper and Wardor dined together in a very crowded inn, 
where the maccaroni must have been cooked by the ton, to 
judge of the sized dish the two artists were presented with — 
and which they finished ! Chickens, lamb chops, salad, and 
two flasks of wine at last satisfied them. When they left the 
table, Wardor proposed their calling on a Eoman family, who 
were spending the summer in the town. They found the house 



AMERICANS IN HOME. 265 

they occupied crowded with guests, who, having finished din- 
ner, were busily employed- dancing to the music of two guitars 
and a flute ; that is, the younger part of them, while the elders 
applauded vociferously, entering into the amusement with a 
reckless spirit of fun and good natui:e, which people who have 
to keep shady nine tenths of the year for fear of their rulers, 
are very apt to indulge in the remaining tenth. 

Ehsa, the daughter of the Eoman family, received Caper 
with hearty welcome, chiding him for having been all summer 
at Segni, and yet not coming near them, and entreating him to 
come to Genazzano and make them a long visit. She intro- 
duced him at once to her affianced husband, a handsome young 
doctor of the tSwn, a man of sterling ability and sound com- 
mon sense, who very soon made Caper at home, insisted on his 
dancing the Tarantella and Saltarella Napolitana with a lively, 
lithe young lady, who cut our artist's heart to fiddlestrings be- 
fore they had danced five- minutes together a polka — for, let the 
truth be told. Caper never could dance the Tarantella. 

"Wardor, in the mean time, had been led off in triumph to a 
side table, and was making a very hearty second dinner ; he 
not having force of mind enough to do like Caper^ and refuse a 
good . offer ! Caper had to drink a few tumblers (not wine 
glasses) of wine, and found it beneficial in dancing. It may be 
as well to repeat here, in order to calm all apprehensions of our 
artist being a hard drinker, that all these wines around Rome, 
with few exceptions, are little stronger than mild sweet cider, 
and that satiety will generally arrive before inebriety. Ask any 
sober and rigorously correct traveller, who has ever been there, 
if this is not so. If he speaks from experience, he will say : 
12 



266 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

'' Certainly ! " " Of course ! " '' To be sure ! " And again, 
''Why not?" 

It is not asserted here that the Eomans of the city or sur- 
rounding country never get tipsy ; but that it is only occasion- 
ally they have change enough to do so ; consequently, a beau- 
tiful state of sobriety is observed by those travellers who — 
never observe anything. 

The moon was shining over the old gate towers of Genaz- 
zano, when Caper mounted his horse, and, in company with 
two Segnians, rode forth from the fifth festa^ and over the hills 
through Cavi, and over the valley past Valmontone, and then 
up the steep road to his summer home ; wondering if, in far- 
away America, they were dreaming of a man who was going 
through a course of weekly Fourth-of-Julys, and how long it 
would be before the world came to an end if such a state of 
things existed in any country where people had liberty to 
study geography, and were ruled by politicians instead of 
priests? 

*^ May I ask your candid opinion of the great moral effect 
of so many hoHdays on an uneducated population ? " inquired 
Caper, one day, of Eocjean, while speaking of the festivals of 
the Papal States. 

^^ Certainly you may ! My opinion is, that the head of the 
state, carrying out the gigantic policy of his predecessors, be- 
lieves, ^ That that government governs best that gives the 
greatest amount of fiddhng to the greatest amount of its chil- 
dren.»" 

"But," objected Caper, "I don't see where the fiddling 
comes in." 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 267 

" In the churches ! " sententiously remarked the Sieur de 

Eocjean. 

^' Oh," quoth Caper, " I was thinking of festivals." 
Keader, do you think hkewise when you are with the 

Romans. 



CHAPTER XI. 

Caper returned to Rome one morning in November, and 
at once went to the Cafe Greco to meet his old friends. He 
found Rocjean there in conversation with a young American 
artist who had lately arrived in Rome, and was taking his first 
breakfast at the Greco. The letter of introduction brought by 
him to Rocjean mentioned his name as Raphael Steele ; that 
he came to Rome to study Art ; and that, as his means were 
limited, any information that Rocjean could give him regardhig 
his making his money go as far as possible, would greatly 
oblige, &c., &c. 

Nothing gave Rocjean more pleasure than the imparting to 
newly-arrived artists the information he possessed as to where 
and how to head off swindlers, and enable strangers to lead the 
pure, simple, and cheap lives of the Romans. He was that 
morning in full tide of initiating Raphael Steele into all the 
mystery of saving pence, in order to spend pounds. 

^'In the first place," said Rocjean, "your breakfast this 
morning will cost you at least twenty-five laiocchi (same as our 
American cents, as I suppose you know), while I shall have 
precisely the same, and it will not cost me ten cents. You 
ordered coffee, and, accordingly, I see that you have the 
* Strangers' Coffee Pot,' silver plated ; milk in a separate jug, 
and sugar in a bowl. Now, when the waiter brings me my 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 269 

coffee, he will bring it already mixed in a tumbler. I shall 
pay two cents and a half; you will pay twelve cents." 

"Yes," said Steele; "but how will the waiter know 
whether you want little milk or much ; sugar or no sugar, 
&c.?" 

" If you like your coffee well milked, you will order caffe 
latta ; if less milk, ombra di latta (a shade of milk) ; if still 
less, schizzo di latta (a mere sketch of milk) ; if without milk, 
caffe nero ; without milk, and extra strong, caffe nero forte. 
If your taste leads you to coffee with cream and butter in it, 
you order a mezza crema. As for bread, these rolls, crisp and 
long, are called simoline ; those over on that table, sweetened, 
and light like buns, with seeds of pine cones or raisins in them, 
are called maritozze ; white bread in small loaves, pane di 
lirra ; toast, pane hrusciato. As for eggs, we have them 
slightly boiled, uove da here, or a la coqua (bastard French for 
d la coque)j or al integama^ dropped in a crockery or tin pan in 
hot butter ; then there are omelettes called fritatte^ and so on. 
The advantage of having eggs al integama^^ (I have never 
seen this word printed, so I guess at it), " is, that you need not 
order butter for breakfast, but you dip your bread in the dish, 
Roman fashion, and — save your coppers — to buy wine. Dur- 
ing Lent, really good Catholics do not drink milk with their 
coffee — it would be criminal. They can, however, substitute 
brandy for milk — and a number do. 

" As for dinner, we will visit in succession sundry restau- 
rants : the Lepre, the Falcone, the Tre Ladroni (Three 
Thieves !), the Gabioni, and Quattro Nazioni. I would advise 
you to flee from the other more expensive eating houses, or 
they will fleece you ; from the other cheaper ones, lest they 



210 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

flea — but this is no joking matter. Bear it in mind, that bread 
and maccaroni are not dear, and that a sixpence worth of these 
makes a big breach in the strongest appetite. Then, you can 
wind up the siege by sending in a wild boar or beef steak, with 
figs, pastry, and wine, never forgetting a salad ; the sum total 
for which will be twenty or thirty cents. Never eat more ; it 
is unwholesome, and leaves you more money for tobacco and 
wine. 

'' As for clothes, I am happy to say that, with care, fifty 
dollars a year will enable you to appear like a milordo. To 
prove to you that clothing is not deaf, I may cite a dress coat 
made for me by Francesco Paoletti, Via di Torre Argentina, 
No. 59, at a cost of eight dollars, and which graced the Em- 
bassy ball the other night. My hands, the same night, were 
clothed with white kid (?) gloves, at an expense of fifteen 
cents a pair ; you can buy them of those three severely cor- 
rect ladies near the Gaffe Nuovo. The bouquet I presented to 
the elderly lady I escorted to the same ball cost fifteen cents ; 
while the legno^ or carriage, was hired to take me to the ball, 
and return, for thirty-seven and a half cents more ; the half 
cent {mezzo haioccho) was part of a premium, or huona mano^ 
to the driver. I smoked a cigar coming home, price one 
and a half cents. These little economies, so shocking to you 
Americans, come very natural to me. If I cannot drink green 
seal Johannisberg, which I really like, I am very happy with a 
mug of beer, a glass of sweet wine, or sugar and water." 

" Can you tell me," asked Steele, '^ where I can find a good 
room, with a good light, that will answer for bedroom and stu- 
dio ? I suppose I ought to find one for four or five dollars a 
week." 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 271 

" My dear sir/' said Eocjean, impressively, ^' you shall find 
two rooms for five dollars a month, instead of week. You 
shall be treated kindly, and shall see pretty faces every day, 
and take their portraits, and learn to speak Roman-Italian, and 
eat hroccolij raw chick-peas, roast chestnuts, and buffalo cheese ; 
squashes stuffed with veal, raw ham, and pumpkin and pine- 
cone seeds ; stewed cocks'-combs and giblets ; pollentaj and 
maccaroni a la Napolitano : have your room sprinkled with 
holy water once a year, and drink Accetosa water of warm 
spring mornings ; go with your landlady and her pretty daugh- 
ters to Ponte Molle, and see .them paddle in wine like ducks. 
In fact, you shall cut the Frank quarter, and live among 
^ them old Turks ' — I should say, leave the English quarter, 
and dwell amid the Romans. But, even in this Eden, look out 
for the snake that lurks on the stairs, in the shape of an entry 
lamp at ninety cents a month. Put your foot on its head the 
instant you see it in your first bill ; don't have it at any price ; 
crush it out. If you don't pay for it, nobody else will, and it's 
a great deal pleasanter to have dark entries, when you want 
them, than light ones. Suppose the Countess Badobadi wishes 
to have her portrait taken, unbeknown to the grim count, can 
she come pattering up stairs in the light ? If there is to be 
any light, you are the one to make it, with a piece of waxed 
cord and a Lucifer ;• — Lucifer makes light of a good many 
things round Rome. Be sure that there is some kind of a 
place for a stovepipe, something in the shape of a chimney, in 
your rooms ; for, as to burning charcoal in an iron pot on legs, 
it not only gives your studio the air of being occupied on 
shares by a roast-chestnut woman, but it gives you the head- 
ache. As for the Roman fashion of saving in wood to spend 



272 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

in wool, and wearing in winter the thickest under and over 
clothes to be purchased, though sensible, it requires time to fol- 
low. If you have a wood fire, unless jou have proved your 
landlady's honesty, you had better make a bargain with her to 
find you in firewood at so much per week. If you buy your 
own, of your own accord, you will find discord ; it goes some- 
where so fast. A scientific lady once proved to me that, as the 
wood was cut green, and there was consequently a great deal 
of steam in it when it was burned, therefore it was bound to 
go fast 1 I accounted for her logic from the fact that her hus- 
band swept out the College De Propaganda Ji*c?e— and had my 
next cord of wood piled under my bed. 

^'It need not cost you much for lights, for, by going every 
night to the Life class, or Costume class, or Capranica Theatre, 
or cafe, and spending about ten cents, you will have fire and 
lights as cheap, nearly, as you would have them in your own 
rooms ; besides, the amusement — and instruction. 

" As for models, four or five of you can club together, and 
have one for all ; thereby paying a . shilling for what singly 
would cost you half a dollar : and the club plan is much the 
most animated and spirited. Besides, the model will act as 
teacher of Italian, without the trouble of splitting your head 
about grammar ; and, at no extra expense, you will thus learn 
the genuine Roman tongue, free from all the conventionalities 
that make it high-toned and respectable. By such little kind- 
nesses as permitting your male models to pick up all the cigar 
stumps on the studio floor, and not noticing the female model 
when she takes a private pull at your wine bottle, when your 
back is turned, you will win their admiration and respect ; be- 
sides, they stand better when they have these rewards in per- 
spective. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 273 

" In choosing your bootmaker, go into the by-ways ; you 
can buy cheaper there, on that account. When I first came to 
Rome, I priced a pair of shoes in the Corso ; their price was 
eight dollars. I priced a pair in the Condotti ; seven dollars. 
In despair, I gave it up, and was going home through a small 
alley — the Via Carozze— when I saw a humble shoeshop with 
one pair of excellently -finished shoes in the window. I went 
in. There sat the semblance of a first tenor of an opera com- 
pany, on his lap a shoe, in his hand a knife. In some doubt, I 
asked him : 

" ^ Are you master of this household ? ' (^Siete padrone ?) 
I expected to see him rise, and sing : 

" * Yes, I am, oh ! yes, I am, oh ! the maestro 
Of this shop, oh ! ' 

Instead of which, with flashing eyes, he sprang to his feet, 
brandished his knife with an air of animation impossible for 
Brignoli ever to hope to equal, and exclaimed : 

" ^ SignoT I lo son^ artiste,^ (Sir ! I am an artist.) 

" * So am I,' said I, proud of my profession. 

"*I am an artist — in leather,' he continued; *but' (here 
he knit his brows, and shook the shoe held in his left hand) 
* but I am poor— yes, poor. Had I a shop in that broad 
street, the Corso, or Condotti, I should charge as they charge, 
and should soon be rich ; but as it is ' 

" ' I'm glad you are not, ' interrupted I ; * for I want to 
buy a pair of shoes cheap ; and as we are both in the same 
business, that is, we are both artists — in poverty, I expect you 
will charge me trade price.' 

"A smile stole over the face of the leather artist, as he 
12* 



274 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

said : ^ Signer, I will deal justly by you, for you are not afraid 

to joke.' 

" He made me an excellent pair of shoes for four dollars — 
for he was a just man ; and, some day when he is first tenor, 
he will be adorable, for he was graceful, and had the voice of a 
nightingale, not in the body of a — pump." 

"About visiting galleries of paintings," asked Steele; 
" how much ought I to give the doorkeepers ? " 

" Give them ten cents the first time you visit them," said 
Caper. 

*^ After that, give them a nod," added Rpejean ; '' and bear 
it in mind, that Rome is the home of Art ; consequently, as an 
artist, you must make yourself at home here. The truth is, 
these janitors would make fortunes, if it were not for the com- 
missionaires, who make them disgorge half that they receive 
from the strangers they bring into their clutches. I remember 
one May morning, when the dull season had begun, entering a 
palace, and finding a commissionaire there in earnest talk with 
tlie janitor. The janitor afterward told me that this man had 
just given him three dollars as a present, in order to keep 
friends with him, and induce him to give the commissionaire 
one half the proceeds of the next winter's harvest the rich 
strangers he would bring to the palace should leave with the 
said janitor. It seems to me, if Titian, Vandyke, Raphael and 
Company could only have foreseen that their works were to 
minister to these extortionists, they never would have worked. 

" There is one matter you should always bear in mind here, 
and that is, you must always bargain for what you buy. It is 
an understood thing among all Romans, that they rarely, if 
ever, pay the first price asked. Time is not valuable with 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 275 

them, and they accordingly devote a great deal of it to a pur- 
chase, no matter how small. Besides, I believe they like the 
excitement of cheapening an article ; it makes buying a lot- 
tery, and the Romans have a passion for this pastime. The 
English have endeavored to introduce the one-price system — 
the Fixed Price arrangement — and, accordingly, some of the 
shops where they deal have the sign exposed : Prezzo 
Fisso " 

'^ Which I pronounce Precious Fizz, oh ! " interrupted 
Caper. 

*'You are nearly right; but the sign draws the English 
and French ; as for you Americans, you prefer paying without 
cheapening, taking your revenge in denouncing the Eoman 
shopkeepers as swindlers. They let you talk, and — pocket 
your money. 

''I only remember one instance, since I have been in 
Rome, where a m^^n would not abate one cent from the first 
price asked ; and, you may believe it or not, I paid him it. It 
was thus : 'I had a room once in the Via Babuino, its windows 
facing the street. For several nights, at a very late hour, I 
was woke up by a man howling under my window. He would 
sit down there, on the edge of a large stone basin full of water 
falhng from a fountain, probably to cool himself off after extra 
drinking, and there he would do what he probably thought was 
singing ; but more ear-stunning howling you cannot fancy. 
The third night of this serendta I jumped out of bed, and, 
throwing open the window, asked him if he had lost any 
friends lately. He said he hadn't. ^ Well, then, where does 
she live ? ' 

^^ * Ah, Signor, I'm past that ; I'm married, and have got 



276 AMEKICANS IN ROME. 

the rheumatism,' he answered. * I'll tell jon what I'm doing 
it for: I'm doing it for a living. I'm chorus singer at the 
Apollo Theatre, and I'm practising for the new opera of 
Aroldi, by Maestro Verdi.' 

" This accounted for the howling. 

^^ ^ Benissimo I now won't you go somewhere else, and 
practise, for I can't sleep a wink while you — sing,' I said to 
him. 

" ^Signor, I would do so with pleasure, but I have no place 
else to go. They have driven me away from home, from 
the Piazza Spagna, from a dozen other places. It wasn't so 
when I practised Donizetti, or Bellini, or Rossini's music ; but 
this Verdi makes me utter such a bull-bellowing' {mugghia- 
mento di toro), * that the neighbors won't suffer it.' 

" ^ I pity you, poor man,' I remarked. 

" * So you ought to,' he answered. ^ It's worse than cry- 
ing " Broc-co-li ! " — and that nearly tore my throat to rags, 
when I used to sell it. But if they go on giving Verdi's 
operas, I'm going back to " Broc-co-o-o-U I " — here he gave an 
actual cry, as if he had hold of a real handbarrow full, and 
was anxious to dispose of it at once. 

" ^ Come,' said I, * I want to go to bed ; and, what is more, 
to sleep. "What do you charge to go away ? ' 

'' ' Eccellenza I ' 

'' ' What is it ? ' 

^^ ^ Do you want to see a poor man driven to hard work ? ' 

i< ' Very much, indeed, if you are that poor Bian, and, by 
hard work daytimes, would sleep at night, instead of howling. 
But why do you ask ? ' 

^' ' For a cause. You see, if I don't practise, I can't sing 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 277 

at the Apollo ; and if I don't sing, I can't gain two pauls 
every night, and something extra when I go errands for the 
first bass ; so, if I go away from here without practising, I 
may lose two pauls ; but I am willing to lose them — if your 
excellency will do me the pleasure to find them again for 
me.' 

" I found them, and threw them down to him wapped up 
in a piece of white paper, for it was a very dark night, and he 
would not otherwise have seen them. 

" "When he had picked them up, he remarked : * You see, 
I am a man of my word ; I am going : but — I have the pleas- 
ure of being sure, that when I have finished sawing away on 
Verdi, and am again " pirooting " and flourishing on Donizetti, 
you will pay me for coming, instead of going. Addto dunque 
a — Donizetti ! ' " 

" You had a lucky escape," spoke Steele ; ^^ and now, if 
you are ready, I would like to see some of the rooms to rent, 
you offered to show me." 

^Tm ready," answered Eocjean ; "but. Caper, what do 
you think of the Trastevere for Steele ? Do you think he 
would like it over there ? " 

" I think it would be a little too Roman for a strange* to 
begin with. Suppose you try the houses round the Capitoline 
Hill, to commence ; that is far enough away from the foreign- 
ers' quarters to insure low prices, and it's a good airy position 
to study the Roman Chi va al cinque piano va a huon mercato 
e sano ; or. To the fifth story go ; you'll * live high ' and 
4ow ! '" 

So Steele, that day, took his first lesson on the Cheap Side 
of Roman life. 



278 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Eocjean was painting away very busily, one day, when he 
heard a knock at his studio door 

'^ Entrate I " shouted he, and in came a round-paunched, 
jolly little man, a Roman artist, named Pancia, an old ac- 
quaintance of Rocj can's, and one he was always glad of see- 
ing, for he was a newspaper on legs — an object common in all 
countries, but only valuable in Rome, where there are no 
newspapers, to speak of. In addition to all the news of the day, 
he told good stories, made good jokes, and was without malice. 

" Ah caro mio^'' said he, as soon as he opened the door ; 
" I mounted those stairs of yours without stopping but once." 

" And why once ? " 

*^ This confounded asthma, and such a view from your entry 
window ! — a lovely maiden, loveUer than Bella Sparaghella ! " , 

^' "Who is Sparaghella ? /know all the models in Rome," 
half soliloquized Rocjean, " but don't remember her." 

^'She wasn't a model," laughed Pancia, "for anybody to 
copy, except in cunning, and by that she outwitted the sbirri 
(constables), not long since, oh ! so bravely." 

" Come, take a cigar, and tell me the story, while I finish 
up this foreground of rocks and trees." 

' "Well, Sparaghella is for Rome what a Traviata is for 
Paris — enough said. Now, it happens that there is a famous 
preacher named Fra Volpe. You don't attend our Church, so 
you probably have never seen him." 

" But Pve often heard of him." 

'' And you shall hear of him again ; he is the hero of my 
story. One Sunday in Carnival, Sparaghella, quietly dressed, 
went to hear him preach. At the first sight of him, her heart 
beat quickly ; for he is a handsome man, of commanding pres- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 279 

ence, with an eye like an eagle, and a voice that would have 
made his fortune as first baritone in an opera company. He 
has talent, and mental vigor to make it tell, and at one glance 
you see that he is molto simpatico. So Sparaghella thought ; 
and when, in impressive silence, he arose, and, with full, meas- 
ured voice, commenced : 

' La CMesa e l'Opera di Lio ' — 

Sparaghella wished she had brought her lorgnette, that she 
might bring that noble fece still closer to hers. 

" Fra Volpe is human ; and, as time and again he saw 
Bella Sparaghella attending his preaching, and gazing at him 
with admiration in her eyes, he came at last to look for her 
impatiently, and grow uneasy when she was absent. At last 
it was rumored tlmt Fra Volpe was the lover of la Bella 
Sparaghella. 

" You have lived long enough in Rome to know that not 
entire love and peace exist among the brethren of our Church ; 
and Fra Volpe had enemies high in power. They hired shirri 
to follow his every step. Night and day there were two 
shadows wherever he went. At last, one stormy night, Volpe 
was run to ground — the fox was earthed ; and at once half a 
dozen beagles in the shape of sUrri were on his tracks. 



" * Lovely Sparaghella,' said Fra Volpe, imprinting, or 
rather engraving a kiss on her dear little mouth, ^'how long 
will this dream continue ? Shall we not be too rudely awak- 
ened ? Will it be the fate of Fra Volpe to fall from the high 
position he now holds, and be numbered among the ignoble 
shepherds ? ' 



280 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" ^ What do you say ? You don't think of going round in 
sandals, and a long blue cloak, and stick, with big dogs, follow- 
ing sheep, I hope ? Never ! I'd a great deal rather you 
would be a shoemaker ; and then, oh ! then you could make 
me such gaiter boots.' Here the fair girl stuck out the pret- 
tiest, cunningest little black slipper, with a foot in it, that 
treads the Corso. 

" ^ But hark ! ' said she, suddenly ; * what noise is that ? ' 

*' ^ 'Tis the wind, oh ! love,' answered Fra Volpe, starting 
to his feet. 

" ^ No, not the window, but the front door. Excuse me, 
love, while I shade the light, and then look out in the street.' 

" * Oh ! Volpe, Volpe ! ' she suddenly exclaimed, in tremu- 
lous whispers, ^ we are undone ; the sh-h-lirri are at the door ! ' 

" '' Di 1^ exclaimed Fra Volpe. Whether he intended 

to end this exclamation with an o, or an avolo^ will never be 
known. For what was his astonishment, at seeing la Bella 
Sparaghella tear a red rose from her hair, pull out the stiletto 
that held its silken coil confined, and let the full length of her 
magnificent black tresses fall dishevelled around her shoulders, 
where they hung, nearly touching the ground ; then, throwing 
herself in agony at his feet, Fra Volpe saw the great tears 
streaming from her lovely eyes, as she hastily whispered : 

" * I am a penitent. You have come here to teach me re- 
pentance. — The door is unlocked. Tace ! ' 

^' They heard the front door opened — the rush of men up 
the stairs. 

" ' Daughter,' rolled out the resonant voice of Fra Volpe, 

* thou hast sinned, indeed, but ' (Here the door flew 

open, and in came, pell mell, the shim.) ' Though thy sins 



AMERICANS I]^ ROME. 281 

were as scarlet, shall they be white as wool.' (The slirri 
looked like sheep, as they saw the tableau before them, and 
were awestruck with the words so grandly rolled out.) * For 
thee, our Mother Church still opens her arms ; for thee, and 
not only thee, but for those who have fallen lower and lower 
in the sink of sin ; for murderers ' (one slirri groaned), ^ for 
thieves and robbers' (here all the slirri groaned in concert), 
* for those who bear false witness against their neighbors, who 
would cast from his high seat the pure, the noble, and the in- 
corruptible man, and in vain endeavor to lower him to their 
own bestial level ; the pure man, of whom one of them might 
say, Ou ouJc eimi iJcanoSj hupsas lusai ton imanta toon upode- 
matoon autouT (The Greek did their business. Down on 
their knees fell the slirri, and fairly trembled, when Fra Volpe, 
with all the power of his voice, his fine figure drawn to its utmost 
height, raised his hand, with outstretched finger, as if calhng 
down the thunderbolts of Jove, and spoke :) ^ But, full of 
mercy as our Church can be, she, too, can punish, and call 
down on these, the wicked ones of earth, a curse that shall wither 
every nerve and sinew, dry up the blood, blast brain and bone, 
and leave them drivelling madmen to their last dread day of 
life ; and, even then, torment them after death, for ages and for 
ages yet to come. "Why do I hesitate this instant to call down 
this awful and tremendous punishment ? ' 

" The slirri gave one fearful shriek in chorus, and sprang 
for the door, as if an instant only was between them and an 
awful fate. An instant more, and up the Corso darted the 
whole pack, never drawing breath until they reached Cardinal 

' 's door. And when they entered the palace with their 

report, it was with pale faces and trembhng hmbs they told the 



282 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

most awful lies to the secretary of his Eminenza Reverendis* 
sima. They assured him that Fra Volpe was the most inno- 
cent man in the States of the Church ; that he had never been 
near the Sparaghella ; that he had never seen her ; never even 
heard of her ; that they had made a grievous error, and mis- 
taken a young milordo Americano for Fra Yolpe, and that they 
had run the wrong fox to earth — upon their words of honor ! 

ToLKOUTCHJi was born in St. Petersburg, in a large house 
on the Dvortsova'ia Naberejenaia. Before he was five years 
old, his sloujanka caught him scratching a caricature of an 
ischvostchih on the copper samovar, [N. B. If the above sen- 
tence is not understood by many readers, it's their fault ! It is 
not more affected than using French phrases, or Italian ; and 
as the writer pleads guilty to the last crime all through these 
sketches, Bussian can't stop him. As he has a hard subject to 
write about, second thoughts lead him to make the road easy, 
so he will begin again.] 

ToLKOUTCHJi was a Russian artist. "When quite young, 
he displayed a talent for design, by scratching the copper tea- 
pot, and furniture, with an old nail ; and the scratches were 
declared by the nursery maid to be capital portraits of hack 
drivers and old houses of her acquaintance. At a more ad- 
vanced age, the Russian Government gave him an annual 
allowance of roubles, and sent him to Rome to perfect himself 
as a painter, by the study of the old masters — and Art gen- 
erally. 

He invited Rocjean, one night, to call around to his rooms, 
in the Via Sistina. Rocjean went there, unfortunately, pre- 
cisely five minutes too late to find him in his rooms, but ex- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 283 

actlj in time to find him lying on his back — in the entry of the 
house, where he had fallen in a duel with the Count de Cognac, 
a bitter enemy of his. Rocjean took him carefully by the hind 
legs, and drew him into his studio ; then, lighting the three- 
wicked lucerna, or Roman brass lamp, he looked around for the 
weapons used in the late duel. He found them on top of a 
table covered with red satin damask, with a gold fringe, and at 
once made proof of their temper. They were fourth proof, 
and he ran himself through with about half a tumblerful ; 
when, looking around, he saw Tolkoutchji glaring at him with 
an expression of ''brandy, or your life!'' so he poured him 
out a glassful, not before he had growled, ^^ Dateme — ik ! una 
— ^ki ! lichierr'^ — off ! di quella — fsky ! " or, to be rational, 
'' Give meiJc sjci glasso^ ths,isky " (not whiskey). 

It is unnecessary to continue the dialogue in drunken 
Italian, with Russian terminations ; suffice it, that, before long, 
Rocjean, having helped Gospodin Tolkoutchji to his feet, had 
the pleasure of seeing that the brandy he had swallowed 
seemed instantly to run down into his legs, leaving his Russian 
head calm, cool, and collected. Giving himself a shake, as if 
to insure a complete precipitation of all the brandy to the ex- 
tremities, he addressed Rocjean in French, the grammar and 
pronunciation of which were remarkably correct ; and, thank- 
ing him for calling, begged that he would be seated ; offered 
him a pipe of Turki-krepi tobacco, or, if he preferred, stronger 
Mahorka, regretting that he could not offer him Latakiah, as 
Abbas Pacha had neglected sending him his usual annual pres- 
ent of this delightful tobacco. 

Conversation turning upon Art, Tolkoutchji gave his visitor 
a very interesting account of the art of boar hunting ; describ- 



284 AMERICANS IN ROME 

ing, with animation and force, a late hunt he had shared with 
six of his countrymen in the Pontine Marshes. They had 
been rewarded by kilHng five full-grown ones, and had enjoyed 
themselves grandly. The Russian had painted a boar hunt 
from sketches made during the time he was in the marshes, 
and, at Eocj can's request, showed it to him. Even by lamp- 
light its effect was starthng ; the boar, coming down a narrow 
path, head foremost, seemed springing from the canvas, the 
foreshortening of the animal being admirably handled. Be- 
hind him, on fire with the ardor of the chase, came the Rus- 
sians, on horseback. There was vitality in every touch of the 
brush — the vitality of reality. You knew that it could paint 
lifelike little children, could give them wings, and curly hair, 
and send them flying through the clouds ; but, they would not 
be angels. 

The Russian, after Rocjean had asked it as a favor, showed 
him half a dozen other paintings. They were either figure, or 
animal and figure pieces ; and, whether taken from sacred or 
profane history, or real life, were all filled with the same actu- 
ality. There was the subject, Danae and the Golden Shower. 
Danae v/as none other than Giacinta the model, in a state of 
wardrobe that would soon render the dressmakers' trade of no 
earthly use, and only leave the shoemaker employed — ^while 
the coins were unmistakably roubles ; and the head of Jupiter 
in the clouds, bore a very close resemblance to that of Gospo- 
din Tolkoutchji while engaged in one of his numerous fierce 
duels with the Count de Cognac, before mentioned. 

The Maiden and the Monkey was another work evidently 
not intended for the Popolo exhibition ; while a Samson and 
Delilah was finished with a truth to nature and boldness that 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 285 

astonished even Eocjean. In this painting, the services of the 
tailor, as well as dressmaker, were overlooked, and only the 
sandalmaker found employment. A drunken Moudjik falhng 
from a droschky, actually staggered you with its truth to life ; 
it seemed to have been painted in brandy, with a decanter for 
a brush. 

Our Russian informed Eocjean that his paintings were all 
finished with a view to their effect by lamplight, as well as by 
daylight ; for, destined, as they were, to be hung up in private 
palaces or houses, their chance of being seen only when balls, 
late dinner parties, or evening reunions were given, was of 
sufficient consequence to the artist to be borne in mind in their 
execution. Speaking of the fine effect given many scenes by 
the aid of lamp or torchhght, Eocjean bitterly regretted hav- 
ing missed seeing an illumination of the forum and Colosseum 
the previous winter, saying, however, he hoped to be more suc- 
cessful the present season. 

" I will tell you one thing," said Tolkoutchji, impressively ; 
'^ the first thousand or two roubles I win at lansquenet, shall 
light them up. Bear this promise in mind ; and, when you 
receive my card, with ^ Colosseum to-night ' on it, go out, and 
take as many Americans with you as you can find. But let 
us drink to Good Luck ; it's my guardian angel." 

While they were drinking, there was a knock at the studio 
door, and in came a portly, good-looking man, who showed 
that he had either intelligence, or so very much wealth that he 
could afford to appear plain in his dress, natural in his manners, 
and independent in his habits. 

Tolkoutchji greeted him warmly, and at once introduced to 
Eocjean the great Eussian banker, Sevnpersentsky, who had 



286 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

that day arrived in Rome from Madrid, on his way to St. 
Petersbm'g. 

" I inquired of Torlonia, to-daj, at dinner," said the banker 
to his countryman, '' if you were still in Rome ; and he told 
me you were, and were in your old quarters ; so I came here 
this evening. I see that you have been busy the last year. 
Let me look at that wild boar hunt." The artist held the hght 
to the painting. 

" Lifelike — admirably painted. You have improved in 
coloring since last year. Now show me every finished picture 
in your studio." Thus speaking, the banker lit a cigar, seated 
himself in an armchair, and carefully examined each work as it 
was placed in turn on the easel. "When he had looked at the 
last one, he asked Tolkoutchji for a pen and ink. 

" For what amount shall I fill up a draft on Torlonia for 
all of them ? " inquired the banker, waving his hand toward 
the pictures. 

** Five thousand dollars," said the artist. 

The banker^s pen flew over the paper. There was Sevn- 
persentsky, with a flourish, at the bottom of it, and the affair 
was finished. 

Our Russian banker then accepted an invitation to put a 
glass of brandy under his waistcoat ; told Tolkoutchji and Roc- 
jean that his carriage was waiting at the door to take them to 
his box at the opera, and he would give them ten minutes to 
get ready to go with him. At the expiration of the time, off 
they rolled to the Apollo, to hear that dear mountain of flesh, 
Chiaramonte, sing as sweetly as she could in Aroldi. 

After the opera, broken in two, Roman fashion, by a ballet, 
in which the principal female dancer wore about enough dra- 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 287 

peiy to make a good-sized handkerchief, Sevnpersentsky gave 
the two artists a supper, at which the Moet Champagne flowed 
as if running in a vinumduct (can't say aqueduct), direct from 
those cellars of Moet's, in Epernay, where you remember you 
noticed a black-marble slab, on which, engraved in letters of 
gold, is the name *' Napoleon," commemorating a visit made 
there by that great man, The Little Corporal. 

Two days after this, Eocjean received Tolkoutchji's card, 
with '' Colosseum to-night" written on it, and at once apprized 
all* his American friends of the expected illumination. They 
went that night, and found the forum and the Colosseum lit 
with torches ; none of those red and bluehght exhibitions, giv- 
ing a sixpenny theatrical look to the scene, but the clear light 
of burning wood or oil. There were thousands of lights, and 
Rocjean came to the conclusion that lansquenet must have nearly 
ruined some one to enable Tolkoutchji to have won enough to 
pay for the illumination. It is impossible to describe the wild- 
ness and startling effect of the ruins in the forum, marked in 
blazing light on a dead black background, or the curious optical 
delusions caused by the eye being unaccustomed to these effects 
of hght and darkness. The interior of the Colosseum was 
startlingly grand and impressive. Crowds of strangers, who 
had heard of the intended illumination, were continually enter- 
ing the arena, moving here and there, gazing in rapture, and, 
for the most part, in silence, on the strangely brilliant scene, 
revealed to them in a manner so unusual, and with effects so 
wild, so impressive, and so wonderful. 

Report said that a noble Roman prince had caused the illu- 
mination to be made in honor of the beautiful Contessa Fala- 
more, con licenza. Others whispered 'that Cardinal Fadanaro 



288 AM ERICA If S IN ROME. 

had done it for political purposes, con permissione. Again, it 
was rumored that General Goyon had paid for it, in order to 
keep in with the Eomans, and not be put outside the walls, con 
animo. That it was the result of a scommessa (bet) between 
one milordo Inglese and another milordo ditto. (Rocjean over- 
heard a young Roman, who looked like a head waiter, but who 
was a shopkeeper, state this to his friend, who was in the same 
plight.) A hundred other rumors as to its giver were circu- 
lated, and to this day no one in Rome, save Rocjean and Tol- 
koutchji, knows the truth of the matter — that it was really 
given, con amore, to please little Petipa of the Opera Comique, 
who found herself in Rome that winter, under the protection 
of a Russian artist incognito ; and who declared she never 
would go back to Paris until the Colosseum was illuminated ; 
and she saw it. After which performance, Tolkoutchji saw 
her off to Civita Vecchia, on her way to — Paris, he hoped. 
She had commenced to " make conversation ; " the police 
office refused to give her a new Carta di Soggiorno ; he was 
heartily tired of her, and anxious to devote himself entirely to 
Art, and to perfecting himself not only in oil, but also in 
water (brandy and water ?) colors. 

Chapin, the sculptor, once asked Rocjean : 

"Don't you think, now, that that Rooshan Tallcodgi is a 
noble in disg-uise ? " 

" None of my business," answered Rocjean, " as to his no- 
bihty ; but I will say, that I've seen him drunk as a lord, 
dressed like a count, generous as a prince, and happy as a king. 
So much for Tolkoutchji ! '^ 



CHAPTEE XII. 

The front windows of the inn of Gaetano, at Segni, com- 
manded a fine view of the mountains which rose before them, 
shutting in the distant Mediterranean Sea. The street was 
clear of houses immediately in front of the inn, and was 
bounded by a wall about fifteen feet in height, above an espla- 
nade, also bounded by another wall overlooking the main road 
leading up to the town ga-te. On the latter wall, at sunset, the 
men, who had been busy through the day in the fields, or at 
mechanical work in the town, congregated. Here, straddled 
out, with legs and arms in every direction, they watched those 
who were returning form the country — especially the women, 
with whom they talked and chatted as they passed along. 

Caper and Eocjean were seated, one evening toward sun- 
down, at one of the front windows of the inn, carefully observ- 
ing the means used by a blacksmith, in the street below, to 
shoe a refractory mule. With assistance, the animal was 
thrown on his back, and, his legs being tied, he was kept quiet 
as a lamb until the shoes were fastened. "Watching the pro- 
cess was an elderly contadinOj who, even after aJl the excite- 
ment of the shoeing was over, and the mule, blacksmith, and 
assembled crowd departed, remained in earnest conversation 
with another old man. 
13 



290 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

" Yes," said the elderly contadinOj ^' Bruno shall marry 
Rosa, for he is young and strong, and can do as hard work as 
any man in Segni. And the sooner they are married, the bet- 
ter for them." 

Our two artists overheard every word of this conversation. 
Rocjean at once commenced philosophizing : 

" Don't you notice, in what that old man has just said, the 
keynote of all society ? " 

**Not a note," replied Caper, watching the landscape with 
half-shut eyes. 

" More is the pity. Now, see here : if one of those Roman 
shopkeepers in the Condotti w^ere asked to whom he would like 
to marry his daughter, what would he say ? " 

^* Is it a conundrum ? For, if it is, you know I am a poor 
hand at those bellows. You look cross — so it's serious, I 
think the shopkeeper would like his daughter to marry a 
shrewd, active young shopkeeper, with. coral shirt studs, who 
bade fair to make a fortune." 

"Exactly," remarked Rocjean. "Now, if the Orsini had 
a daughter to marry, to whom would he like to marry her ? " 

" Let me see ; the Orsini is reported to have about twenty 
thousand dollars a year. "Well, he would prefer a Corsini, for 
that prince has about one hundred thousand dollars net reve- 
nue." 

"From all of which I infer," continued Rocjean, "that 
humanity, even in marrying its daughters, wants to go for- 
ward, by muscle, brains, or wealth and titles. After a while, 
muscle gets brains, brains gain wealth and titles ; and as long 
as wealth and titles hold on to the brains, so long they keep at 
the top of the social pyramid." 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 291 

" Otherwise ? " 

" They slide down the opposite side to which they came 
up." 

" Good ! but I don't see where Progress comes in, if all 
humanity is to go on ad infinitum climbing up, only to slide 
down again." 

^' There it is I " replied Rocjean, with warmth. " Those who 
slide down, carry with them all the pure airs and fine views 
they had when they were on the apex, and bring such glowing 
accounts to poor muscle at the base, that it puts renewed 
energy into it ; and, by a wise provision of Providence, the top 
of the pyramid is higher every generation. Some day it will 
reach heaven ! " 

" H'm ! " spoke Caper ; " don't you think you've mistaken 
your calling? Don't you think, instead of painter, you ought 
to have been preacher ? " 

^' ril answer that, suddejily : the best of preachers are 
painters ; and the best of painters were preachers. The best 
preachers of the present day, using the word in its broad sense 
— inculcators of anything with earnestness — are those who use 
such strong, plain language, that every man may understand 
them. They paint, on the mind of the most uninstructed 
hearer, plain pictures in primitive colors. Painters were 
preachers when they were inculcators of anything with earn- 
estness ; when, instead of confining themselves to works that 
would sell, they gave freedom to the pencil, and aided man- 
kind to ennoble, and not debase, the poorest of their fellow 
men." 

Rocjean, during his discourse, had retired from the window, 
and was energetically sawing the air with his right arm, to 



292 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

help along his elocution ; while Caper was just as industriously 
noting the men and women returning from the fields and vine- 
yards. 

Certainly, Segni had more than her portion of muscular 
catholicity, and it was a constant source of pleasure for our 
artists to notice the completion of figure attained by nine-tenths 
of the female inhabitants. The men run to bone and muscle, 
and were not as erect in their carriage as the women, who 
owed their straight forms and stately figures, to a degree, to 
their continually carrying so much weight on their heads. The 
only fat persons in the town were those who led sedentary 
lives, and there were not, at fj^io most, half a dozen of these 
bulky weights. 

Among them was a widow rejoicing in the name of Mari- 
uccia, the mother of several mature sons and daughters, who, 
either out of respect to their deceased father's will, or wishes, 
were anxious that their mother should continue her widowhood 
for an indefinite period. An obstacle to this arose in the shape 
of about five feet two inches of humanity, called Nuto, which 
is the abbreviation for Benvenuto, and which name was given 
him because he was born on that saint's day— -the twenty- 
second of March. This " obstacle " was by no means a mas- 
ter of the triangular hoe with which most of the field cultiva- 
tion is performed ; neither did he swing an axe with commend- 
able vigor ; and any one ignorant of arithmetic might count all 
the live stock — in the shape of mules or hogs — ^he owned. 
The prospect was, that widow Mariuccia, in taking this man 
for her husband, might say, I take him to help me to eat, but 
not to help me to meat — a wide difference in a mountain coun- 



AMERICANS IN BO ME. 293 

try, and one her children dishked. She was going a non-pro- 
gressive road. 

Caper and Eocjean, while at the window, noticing heavy 
banks of black clouds rising over the mountains, foretelling a 
thundergust, omitted their usual sunset walk. "When supper 
was served, and while they were at table, several flashes of 
lightning, with distant roaring, heralded the approaching storm, 
and the two artists were expecting to hear, every moment, a 
grand crash announcing its being overhead, when — they heard 
it under foot. 

'^ New kind of thunder, that — eh, Eocjean?" 

^' Yes — flashy. Too much tin pan and fishhorn about it 
to be natural. I should like to know what it's all about. 
Filomena .^ " 

At this call, there came running into the dining room a 
tall, strongly built young woman, who acted as waiter at table 
during meals, and maid-of-all-work at other times. She had 
large blue eyes, very light hair, and, I'll bet a scudo^ could 
curry a horse, tend corn, cut wheat, or chop wood, with the 
best man of her weight for ten miles around. A little more 
attention to her toilet would have materially enhanced her 
value as a housemaid ; for, pretty as a light blue bodice, laced 
with silken cord may be, when it is laced, it is otherwise when 
loose, and the blue ribbons over the shoulders are not half tied. 
Then, too, her coral necklace hung on askew, and the gathered 
folds of white linen over bosom and shoulder were — neglected. 
The silver dagger in the hair, sticking up in the air like a con- 
ductor to a lightning rod, and a generally draggled air to the 
entire person, suggested to Caper the idea of his great oil 
painting, The Shiftless Beauty, which afterward obtained 



294 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

admittance to the annual Exposition of Beaux Arts, in the 
large glass hothouse in the Champs Elysees, and was regis- 
tered in the catalogue of the exhibition : 

CAPER (Jacques), d New Torh (Amerique); et d PariSj Hotel 
des Princes^ 97 Bue de Bichelieu^ CTiambre N. 136. 
3617 — ^Poney irlandais trottant (eifet de pluie). 



The directors were of it very much fdcM (Irish, fashed) 
that Monsieur Capre should be of the printer a victim ; that 
an error so grave — calling a Dame Italian, a Poney Irish— 
actually of them made to stand up (dresser) the hairs on the 
head. But what will you ? At present the catalogues are all 
printed — the error cannot be corrected ; but — to him they 
made their compliments of the tableau ! They were of it, to 
speak frankly, very content, charmed, ravished, enchanted ; 
they for it — the tableau — felt the most great satisfaction, infi- 
nite joy, great pleasure; they of it, him felicitated with all 
their heart, Chouette. 



"Coming, in a minute!" — Let us return to Filomena. 
When she entered the dining room, Eocjean asked her what 
was all the noise aboat ? 

" 'M heh ! " (Mountain Itahan for Ah, lene I Ah, well !) 
" s'^nor\ it's a Scam-pa-nacci-ada ! " Here, either owing to the 
construction of the word, or an obstruction in her head, Filo- 
mena sneezed ; whereupon Caper exclaimed at once ; 

, ''Salute!^' (Health!) In Northern Italy you say, Fe^ 
licitd I (Happiness !) when any one sneezes ; and the sneezer 
responds, both north and south, as the waiter girl did : 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 295 

'' Thanks ! " 

** And now, Filomena, tell me, what is a Scamper- gnash-a- 
tater ? " 

'' Who kn '' 

" Don't saj, "Who knows ? but think a moment before you 
speak," interrupted Caper, " and tell us what is the cause of 
this infernal noise." 

" 'If heh I s'nori^ it's the widow Mariuccia." 

" What I is that her voice ? " 

"Ifa che^ I mean, the noise is made because she has 
thrown herself away on Nuto." 

" Why, she weighs two hundred and fifty pounds. I ex- 
pect she has crushed him to pieces. Poor fellow ! Awful 
groans, ain't they, Rocjean ? " 

** Oh ! s'nor\ why can't you understand me ? " cried Filo- 
mena, wildly. " I mean to say she's married him, and all the 
rowdies in town are serenading them. Now, don't you under- 
stand ? " 

" Certainly — perfectly. It's a band of Callithumpians ma- 
king a charivari," quoth Caper. 

Filomena heard these fearful words, crossed herself, and 
fled to the kitchen, there to reiterate her belief to the landlady, 
that the entire race of forestieri were crazy. 

The noise growing louder and louder, our two artists deter- 
mined, as the thunder storm had passed away without visiting 
Segni, to sally out and see the performance. Entering the 
main alley, popularly called street, they found themselves in 
the midst of a large number of men and boys armed with ox 
horns, pieces of sheet iron, old fiddles — in fact, anything that 
would make a noise — the crowd working the instruments with 



296 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

hearty good will. In a few minutes they all straggled off in a 
body up the main alley, past the church and postoffice, until 
they came near the bishop's palace, when they halted, and 
began the most infernal serenade to be heard. It was not long 
before a window in the bishop's house, alias palace, was opened, 
and, as far as could be seen from a light inside, a tall priest 
stepped out, and begged the crowd, in rather commanding 
terms, to clear out and go to bed, and not be disturbing His 
Eeverendissimo with such sventuratissimo schiamazzo (wretched 
noise). 

'^ It's not for his Eeverendissimo, but for that wicked Mari- 
uccia, who's going to starve her infants to feed Nuto," shouted 
one of the Callithumpians. The noise grew worse and worse ; 
the Army of the Church then in the town (seven gensdarmes) 
began to yawn, and two on guard in the prison twirled their 
moustaches, and prepared to think how many haiocchi they 
would gain in case they were to sack the town. 

Our two artists had lately discovered a very comely widow, 
named Berta, who kept a select caffe^ where only the priests 
and soldiers had entrance ; but their haiocchi and politeness 
gained them admittance, and the two strangers were always 
welcomed heartily. As it was very near the bishop's house, 
Caper and Eocjean went in there to take coffee and smoke a 
cigar, knowing that the serenade was of that kind that thick 
walls only added to its charmingness, by mellowing the dis^ 
cords. 

" Prosst ! " said the comely widow, as they entered. 

*' Viva I " answered the artists. — It may be well to explain 
here, that the salutation of prosst^ so common around Eome, is 
an abbreviation of the three Latin words, pro sit te — May it 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 297 

be (well) for thee. The landlord uses it when you sit down to 
dinner, often accompanying it with the expression, A good 
appetite. 

^^ An awful night — for music, padrona mia^ said Caper to 
the widow Berta. 

"Yes, indeed; it rains howls and yells, and blows big 
horns. Verily, it is hard for the poor Mariuccia ; they will not 
let her sleep a wink to-night, poverina I " (poor little thing !) 

" Poveraccia I " (poor big thing !) " you mean," said a man 
in the corner. 

" Ha, Bruno, you are jealous of Nuto. "Wouldn't you like 
to have such a bridal march played when you are married ? " 
asked the widow. 

"Perhaps, if I had" — (here the man held his two hands, 
palms turned out, by the sides of his head) — "like Nuto, I 
might." 

They kept up the noise for an hour, the excitement grow- 
ing greater every moment, and finally culminating in a shower 
of stones, and the precipitate retreat of the serenaders on hear- 
ing that the gensdarmes were coming with loaded guns. 

They kept up the racket for three nights, defying the au- 
thorities to stop them. The authorities knew better. '' Slaves 
will dance, so let them have Saturday night, and be hanged to 
them ; " but as for learning geography, that they shall not do. 
The idea of making prisoners walk a treadmill that turns a 
hand organ, is peculiarly delicate and apposite, since, according 
to Petrarch, it is to Pope Yitalian, once an inhabitant of this 
town, that we are indebted for the invention of organs ; and it 
was during his residence in Segni that the first one ever known 
was manufactured there. 
13* 



298 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

Where this Scampanacciata would have ended — for bad 
blood was brewing— it is hard to tell, had not the authorities 
been miraculously protected hj a saint, whose birthday came 
along just in time to distract the attention of the jpopolaccio^ 
and call them away from secular affairs. The saint had, in his 
honor, a torchlight procession, and illumination of many of the 
houses with paper lanterns and little earthen lamps, as antique 
in shape as those used two thousand years ago. The proces- 
sion was very picturesque. The night was dark, and the lights, 
winding up the steep streets, illuminating those houses not 
otherwise lighted, and reddening here the old prison, there the 
piazza and church, or colonaded Communal Palace ; the chorus 
of voices singing, or shouting, Evviva Maria I when a halt 
was commanded ; the young women dressed in white, with 
wreaths of flowers around their heads ; Capuchin friars with 
brown robes, ruddy cheeks, and long, flowing beards ; banners, 
crucifixes. "Why, it completely extinguished the Scampanac- 
ciata ; and the Gonfaloniere reasserted his clerically-civil sway 
over the three nights turbulent city of Segni. 

With September came quail shooting, and Caper, who was 
then alone in Segni, Dexter and Rocjean having left, weeks 
before, for other parts, learning from his landlord, Gaetano, 
that he, too, was desirous of giving these birds a few shots, the 
two joined forces, and opened the campaign. 

The quail of southern Europe is a migratory bird. Arriv- 
ing from Africa in May, they are, after their long flight, in 
miserable condition ; but in the autumn, prior to their return to 
winter quarters, they are fat, finding plenty of food in the stub- 
ble of the wheat fields. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 299 

One afternoon, mounting their horses, with guns slung over 
the left shoulder, Caper and Gaetano rode down the mountains 
to the plains, where they found wide fields of wheat-stubble to 
work over, and where they heard there were plenty of birds in 
fine condition. ^ They had previously made appointment with 
two men, who were to meet them by an old ruined monastery, 
and have with them two or three good quail dogs. The ruin 
reached, they looked in vain for men or dogs, but not a hat or 
tail was to be seen. Putting up their horses in a corner of the 
old ruin, and loading their guns, they started off. With slow 
steps they walked around a small piece of woods belonging to 
Prince Borghese, hoping to find the men with whom they ex- 
pected to hunt, the other side of it ; but no, they were not in 
sight. 

Caper, unable to start a single quail without a dog, saw, 
some distance off, a flock of wild pigeons, and, in hopes of bag- 
ging a few, crossed a small stream, and was cautiously creeping 
toward them, when, long before he was within decent rifle shot, 
they took wing. Eetracing his steps, he mounted a bank with 
caves in its sides- — black, pokerish holes in the pozzoldna] and, 
as he reached the top of the bank, he saw Gaetano in conver- 
sation with a shepherd, in goatskin overalls, long staff, conical 
black hat, gold earrings, curls over his ears, and his hair cut 
short behind ; sandals on his feet, a pink waistcoat, with blue 
sash around his waist ; while his jacket hung on his shoulder 
blade, which answered for a nail. The two were moving 
slowly over a piece of stubble, while a lean, wiry, hungry-look- 
ing, straight-haired cur dog was running around in front of 
them, as if looking for a lost beef bone. As Caper came up, 
the shepherd was shouting to the dog : ^^ Tr-r-r-o ! tr-r-ro I 



300 AMERICANS IN KOME. 

Toca I Qua I qua I '* (Find ! catch ! here !) and, as our artist 
stood laughing at the scene, ^* Whirr -irr ! " up sprang a quail, 
only to tumble down again ; and, whirr I another, Gaetano 
stopping both with his double barrel. They got up and killed 
a half dozen quails within ten minutes, the dog working Hke a 
high-pressure engine with a full head of steam on ; being re- 
warded, as each bird fell, with its trail ; for, in this warm cli- 
mate, you must draw your birds as you bag them, or else you 
will draw — out nothing but carrion when you have knocked 
off gunning. What with a late start and the time lost in hunt- 
ing for the men who were to meet them, and didn't, it was 
growing late, and so our two gunners had to stop shooting, par- 
ticularly as the shepherd had to be going hutward, his large 
flock of goats haying preceded him, and had to take his watch- 
dog with him. Caper offered to buy him, but the shepherd 
charged too high a figure, guaranteeing that he would catch 
snipe, woodcock, quails, hares, and rats ! And it was this 
catching part of his education that made the half dozen quails 
shot over him such captivating amusement. Bang ! went the 
gun, down fell the bird, at it pitched the cur, devouring it at 
two bites, unless you could choke him off; the shepherd yell- 
ing, Gaetano shouting, and anathematizing the dog, as they hur- 
ried up to grab the quail. How their black eyes gleamed, and 
how excited they were ! It beat cock fighting. Imagine the 
manner that dog would be broken by a thorough sportsman, for 
mouthing birds in that manner 1 — Across the back ? Yes, sir. 
By good fortune, Francesco, the vetturinOj learning from 
Caper that five dollars would be paid for a good dog, at once 
determined to make his fortune ; and the next time he came 
from Rome there was a full-blood pointer passenger, worth at 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 301 

least fifty scudi^ for Segni ! He promised to take him again to 
the citj after the gunning season was over, and return him to 
his owner ; but it was Caper's private opinion that the owner 
had very httle to do with that dog's country excursion. He 
was well broken, and Gaetano and Caper knocked quails and 
red-legged partridges over him in a manner highly soothing to 
their nerves, when, by accident, these were unstrung by any 
allusion to their first day's quail-shooting with a rat dog. 

The wild pigeons were quite numerous, but hard to shoot. 
The few killed by Caper he found excellent eating, while, artis- 
tically, he made more than one oil sketch of these beautifully 
plumaged birds. The feathers under their fore wing, and on 
the breast, were like our own ; but on the back and wings their 
plumage was brown and mottled, like a woodcock ] while their 
legs and feet were bright red. 

Among the smaller birds, the far-famed Fig Peckers [Becca- 
fichi) ofiered many a morning's good sport, and many a good 
relish for dinner. But the funniest shooting that Caper found 
in the Campagna, was with an owl. Gaetano had long prom- 
ised to give our artist an insight into this novel mode of gun- 
ning ; and, after sundry huntings in old houses, one of the boys 
of the town succeeded in catching one of these pets of Minerva, 
and carried it to the landlord, who, next morning, invited our 
artist to assist at 

LA CACCIA DELLA CIVETTA, 

While the east was gfowing like the wattles of a turkey 
cock making a free exhibition of himself, and before the sun 
had climbed high enough to shine, Gaetano and Caper were 
walking down a mountain path, brushing the dew from path- 



302 AMERICANS IK ROME. 

side bushes, and feeling that dehghtful sense of full-blooded life 
a fresh morning in October owes healthy men. They stopped 
near a lodge in a vineyard, and Gaetano *cut one of the long 
canes that are grown for the purpose of training grape vines 
on, which canes are the same as our fishpole canes of Southern 
growth. Thus equipped, they went on. They soon overtook 
a funny-looking, bright-eyed little man, who had over his 
shoulders some fish nets, with which he was going down to a 
small stream in the plains, where he expected to make a good 
haul of fish. The majority of these fish being minnows, they 
are cooked and eaten whole. The fisherman was very talk- 
ative, and very enthusiastic as to the number of wild pigeons 
about in the valley. " Thousands of 'em, thousands. Last 
year, Bruno and I caught, one night, in a little over an hour, 
eighty-five of 'em ! " 

*^ How was that?" 

** Oh ! Bruno, he carried the light, and rang the bell, and 
I had a net at the end of a long pole, and covered them, so ! " 
(Here he showed the way he cast the net.) 

In fact, they '' fire hunted " the pigeons, as negroes in Lou- 
isiana " fire " woodcock and snipe. # 

In a short time they passed the ruins of some old Roman 
tombs near the Via Trajana, and the fisherman told them that 
many of the country people had found coins and lamps near 
these ruins. '^ A woman, while hoeing, turned up a small urn 
— a very dear little one {una cnatura) — full of silver coins, 
which she sold to a priest who cfSllected such sort of goods 
(rohd). He actually gave her good money for it, piece for 
piece — for he was a very just man ! " 

They reached the plain, or rather rolling prairie, leaving 



AMERICANS IN ROME. * 303 

the fisherman hj his field of labor — a small mud-puddle — and 
pushed on, in the early sunlight, for a point that Gaetano 
showed Caper. Small birds in flocks went twittering by, larks 
were rising and singing, country people turning up the rich 
earth with triangular hoes. They saw the young wheat, two 
inches high, greening the fields, the great furrows worn in the 
dark-red soil by heavy rains, until, at last, they came to a place 
well suited for their purpose. Gaetano now planted an iron-^ 
shod stake in the ground, undid a hunting basket, and displayed 
a small live owl, working its eyes as if it wanted to roll them 
out of its head. It ruffled its feathers, stretched its neck, 
jumped up on the side of the basket, and evidently enjoyed the 
fresh air. Gaetano next brought out what looked like a bright- 
red, round pincushion, with a wooden bottom, in the centre of 
which was a hole. In this hole one end of the cane was 
thrust. The owl, with a string made fast from the cane to one 
of his legs, was placed on the red cushion, which served as a 
roost ; and the cane, being elevated, was slipped over one end 
of the iron-shod stake ; the bird of Minerva was thus elevated 
twelve feet, or so, in the air. Hardly was the owl placed, 
before a couple of small birds pitched at him, circling round 
and round his head. 

" Don't fire ! " said Gaetano ; " they're nothing but cardelli 
(linnets ?) ; the larks (lodole) will be here shortly. You take a 
stand over there, with your back to the sun. I'll stay here." 
Then, with a bird whistle, he commenced calling. Suddenly, 
up whirled a couple of larks, and, as they darted over the owl, 
Gaetano knocked over one, and Caper shot the other as it 
poised. But the day, which held out such fine promises at sun- 
rise to pay good weather, became overcast in an hour. After 



304 AMERICANS IN ROME, 

bagging eleven larks, they changed their ground to where they 
saw some men with a spring-net (roccolo), who were after the 
same game. Hardly had they placed their owl a second time, 
and killed a few more birds, before there came over the plain, 
mounted on a stout black horse with flowing tail and jingling 
harness, Signor Candido ; and he hailed them afar off, to know 
what sport. Then he dismounted, tied his horse to some 
bushes, and came on the ground with a gun and an iron-shod 
stake — another owl,'. thought Caper. "iVbwTie, s'^iore," (which 
is mountain tongue for No, sir !) 

Candido planted the stake, and then took from his pocket a 
triangular piece of wood, painted red, with round pieces of 
looking glass the size of a dollar let in on its sides. From an- 
other pocket he brought out a piece of mechanism, consisting 
of a long string round a steel spring ; this he fitted on the 
stake. He then wound up the string, and placed the piece of 
triangular wood over the spring and cord, on an iron spindle, 
which, being pulled by the spring, gave a rotary motion to the 
triangular piece of wood, making the looking glass flash in the 
sunhght, which had again burst forth, the clouds scattering 
before a stiff southeasterly wind. The owl proved more attrac- 
tive than the looking glass, though but few birds were on the 
wing, owing to the wind. So, during a truce, our gunners took 
out food and flasks, making a hearty dinner, interrupted, now 
and then, by having to pick up their guns to fire at a chance 
lark darting owlward. 

After dinner, they pulled up stake, pulled down owl, and 
walked off to the vineyards, to take a few shots at whatever 
might fly up, killing a few thrush, and, by bad luck, missing a 
shot at a fine large hare that bounded down the rocks at tip-top 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 305 

speed. So tliey worked their way up through the vineyards to 
the oHve groves, getting a shot now and then, and having the 
hardest dimbing — or digging one's toes into loose stones, and 
then sHpping back, for it was too steep to bring the heels to 
bear among the olive trees — that Caper ever tried. But the 
walk put a wire edge on our artist's appetite, and, after a bird 
supper, with a bottle of wine, then cofiee and a cigar, he slept 
the sound sleep awarded to the owl-hunter in the Yolscians. 

The Game Laws, as known in Englanl, are unknown or 
ignored in the Papal States ; and the Eoman game market, 
which has been declared by competent authority to be one of 
the best in Europe, owes its excellence more to the skill of pot 
hunters than to the abMtf^" ^^ ^^^^ sportsmen. Fire hunting, 
traps, nets, are all used to kill game ; and that game is abun- 
dant, any one who has lived in the Campagna during the 
proper season can readily bear witness, not to mention those 
who, in the autumn and winter months, have visited the Ro- 
man game market around the Pantheon. It is true that, with 
the game birds, one cannot help noticing there is enumerated 
many of the feathered tribe who are by no means game ; and 
it is necessary to go back in one^s ideas a few generations, to 
reconcile one's palate to eating nightingales and other song- 
sters, before they can come under this heading. 

There were two places near Segni where small birds were 
caught during the month of October, in great numbers, in what 
were called 

BRESCIANE ; 

and as Caper never saw anything similarly arranged in the 
United States, it may be well to describe one. 

The hrescianay belonging to the Allegrini family, was an 



306 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

enclosed space, planted on three sides with double rows of 
small trees, leaving a long alley in the middle open, and about 
fifty feet long by twenty feet wide. The trees were allowed to 
grow about ten feet high, and the branches were trained and 
trimmed so as to form a flat surface on the sides facing the 
interior. Silk nets, with pockets, were then stretched from 
these trees, on three sides, from their tops to the ground. On 
the end of the enclosure not occupied by trees or nets, was a 
small house, in miich the trapper sat looking out through a 
window in the house. Singing birds in cages were hung under 
the trees, and decoy birds, with clipped wings, were allowed to 
run about in the open space of the interior of the hresciana^ 
where plenty of bird seed was scatro^d. Several large trees 
were left to attain their natural growth in the immediate vicin- 
ity, serving as roosts. The wild birds flying over or settling 
on the roosts, attracted by the singing birds, and the sight of 
the decoy birds feeding on the seeds, ahghted in the open space 
of the hresciana^ and, when the netter thought there were 
enough, he pulled a rope which was suspended from one end 
to the other of the enclosure, thus raising it three or four feet 
from the ground, causing sundry bunches of rags attached to 
it to flutter, and a bell to ring, whereupon the frightened birds 
flew right and left in a direct line, and were caught in the 
pockets of the extended nets. A bushel or two of small flyers 
were caught sometimes in this trap in a day, and, for those who 
relish tom-tits, yellow birds, wrens, and sparrows, they un- 
doubtedly might afford a very game repast. 

The Pontine Marshes, a day's journey from Segni, ofier, in 
winter, good wild-boar hunting. More than one wolf, too, was 
killed in the mountains immediately around the town, while 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 307 

Caper lived there. In fact, a shepherd boy, of whom our 
artist once asked the question why he kept so many savage 
dogs to guard his flock, told him he had them to keep off 
wolves and Christians. 

What local meaning Christians {^Cristiani) may have 
ainong Segnians, Caper never discovered; but it is evident, 
from this answer, that, among these good Catholics, they are 
regarded as little better^than heathens. 

^' Segni," said an army chaplain once to Caper, " is air and 
Cyclopean walls. When you have said that, you have said 
everything." 

The protector of the city of Segni, and of the above-men- 
tioned air and walls, was Saint Bruno. In his honor a great 
many of the inhabitants were named, and, yearly, a grand fes- 
tival was given especially to him, when a life-size plated-silver 
bust was shown to the populace as a real portrait of their 
saintly protector. They had great faith in that bust, not the 
less so that they believed it solid silver. It should be borne in 
mind that Saint Bruno was no relation to Giordano Bruno, 
who was burned alive at the stake in Rome, February 17, 
1680 ; and who, when the flames lapped round him, stinging 
their way to his brave heart,' turned his face away in disgust 
from a monk who held up for his admiration a crucifix. No ! 
the Saint Bruno who protected Segni was another sort of 
human being. The citizens pointed out to you, far away on a 
mountain top, a lonely ruin where their saint fasted and preyed 
on himself, until cakes and ale were vain to tempt him, and he 
passed away from their allurements. For this self-denial he 
was calendared Protector of Segni. He had a curious protec- 



308 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

torate — one where the admirers of a high tariff would have 
found an elysium ; where the advocates of free trade would 
have stumbled over an inferno. The inhabitants were as 
nearly independent of the rest of the world as men could be ; 
they wove their own cloths, made their own clothes, raised 
their own food, got up their own fights, and dug their own 
graves. If they were well, they worked hard for the priestly 
gentlemen in black who held communion with Saint Bruno; 
and if they were unwell, the gentlemen in black found a phy- 
sician for them gratis, in order to cure them, and set them to 
work as quickly as possible — for the honor of their patron saint 
— and the pockets of his officers. 

In the midst of the vintage — it was one Sunday morning — 
the weather suddenly changed, and a heavy rain storm com- 
menced. One of Caper's friends, named Giovanni looked, that 
morning, gloomier than the weather. 

*' Well, Giovanni, what is the matter ? " 

" By all the saints, our bishop is a beast. Here have I 
barrels full of grapes, all picked, down there m the vineyard, 
and they will be spoiled unless I can bring them up this morn- 
ing, and put them in the press ; and yet the bishop refuses to 
let me bring up a grape : while he has just sent half a dozen 
of his own men down to bring up his own ! Per tutti i sdnti I 
I shall have to pay five scudi if I break the Sabbath ; but " 
(here Giovanni raised his arm and his voice) *^ I'm going to 
break it; and I'd break a hundred more, and pay for the 
pieces, before I'll be swindled by the old brute. If his men 
work , why can't mine ? " 

So you see that, even in Arcadia — I should say Segni — 
where tariffs are unknown, the rights of man begin to assert 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 309 

themselves, and the Giovanni of to-day dares question the 
bishop's right to unjustly treat him. 

Every load of wood entering the city, whether it comes on 
mule, horse, or donkey back, pays one stick tribute as it enters 
the gate : it drops it there, and, once a day, a sturdy black- 
smith gathers it up. It is his, for he has paid the public school, 
to whom this perquisite belongs, eighteen dollars a year for it, 
agreeing, moreover, to keep up fires in the schoolhouse, when 
wanted. Giovanni tells me he makes money by the bargain. 

There is a dainty little tax on everything. I met, one 
morning, my friend Bruno carrying a cock and two hens to a 
house where dwelt two of the nobility of Segni — two old 
maids, who scarcely ever stirred from the house, and lived in 
stately dignity upon some little money they inherited. Bruno 
stopped, as I passed him, to ask me about a horse he had prom- 
ised to hire for me. I praised the hens. 

^^ Yes," said he ; " poor things ! I am carrying them to the 
Signora Antonia, in payment for two roosters she caponized 
for me yesterday." 

''What?'' 

" Certainly ; the Signora Antonia makes all the capons for 
the commune ; no one is so skilful as herself. On this account 
she eats chickens every week." 

"Well!" 

There are very few chimneys in the town, consequently the 
sm^oked interiors of the houses are rich in color, and very pic- 
turesque, looked at artistically. 

There is very httle immorality; for the gentlemen on 
guard, with shovel hats and black clothes, pay strict attention 
to this matter. If a young unmarried girl is unfortunate, they 



310 AMERICANS IN ROME. 

at once find out the name of the author of this misfortune, and, 
presto I there is a wedding ; for the author knows that San 
Bruno's hands that pat, may turn into claws that will tear and 
rend ; so he submits. 

There is very little robbery — for there is nothing to steal. 

A few miles from Segni, at the foot of the mountain, lies 
the picturesque old town of Montelanico. Passing through its 
main street, on the morning of a festival held there, Caper saw 
two men in angry dispute. One had kicked an old hen be- 
longing to another. That evening, as he left the town at an 
early hour, and was slowly riding up the mountain path to 
Segni, he heard a single gun fired, and, knowing that they 
were to have fireworks in Montelanico that night, he turned 
round, thinking the report might be that of a rocket. All that 
could be seen was a faint cloud of blue smoke passing away 
from a tree by the roadside far below him. Four days after- 
ward, he learned that the man who had kicked the old hen had 
been shot dead that very night ; the report of the gun heard 
was his death knell. His murderer was carried to Velletri. 

A Frenchman, who passed some weeks at Segni, with his 
family, learning that there was to be a fair and festival at Vel- 
letri, went there. "When he returned, his face was long, and 
his look despondent. Caper asked him if he were unwell. 

" Ugh ! that supper at Yelletri was positively atrocious. I 
remember nothing half so horrible, except the scene in the 
Borgia, when the fair Lucrece appears, and tells the gentlemen 
they are all poisoned. Figure to yourself that we arrived on 
a rainy night at Velletri, and went to a dirty tavern. "We 
found a dirty dining room, with a dirty supper set out before a 
dozen dirty cutthroat-looking blackguards. But we were hun- 



^^ 



B D- 6 6. 



AMERICANS IN ROME. 311 

gry ; we began to eat, when, suddenljj, I heard a priest in 
angrj dispute with an officer of gensdarmes. 

^' ^ I tell you,' said the priest, ' it is infamous to bring these 
men here. I shall report it to the bishop.' 

" * Eeport, and be hanged ! ' said the officer. * What if 
they are condemned to death ; haven't the poor fellows a right 
to a little amusement while they live ? They have eight days' 
leave of absence from prison to recruit themselves ; and you, 
you grumble about it ! ' 

" The fact was, that eight of the men then at table with us 
were murderers, and several of them murderers of the most 
horrible description. It was raining like a second deluge, but 
we left that tavern at once, and — I never want to eat again in 
Velletri." 

You see, that Saint Bruno has many curious things under 
and around his protectorate. Superficial let our examinations 
be ; we must not dig too deep ; we would disclose dirt and 
superstition, ignorance and prejudice enough to make angels 
weep ; and yet, there is a contentment apparent among the 
Segnians, that we do not find anywhere else, save among sav- 
ages and the uneducated peasants of the rest of Europe, who, 
like these their brothers, have ne veil yet had intelligibly ex- 
plained to them that they had souls, and were immortal ; that 
they were made in the image of God, and that the keys of 
heaven were in every man's hands — ^not hung up in the 
Vatican. . :: t^- - 

YALETE /^^^^ 

I lo? 3 1883 

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